


We are Hunted

by Not_Marie



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Marie/pseuds/Not_Marie
Summary: The story of a young woman whose life changed completely after she was gunned down in the streets of NYC. How the forgotten secrets of her past will shatter everything she thinks she knows about her own life, and will irrevocably change her future forever.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a WIP for a decade. I've been doing a lot of research on multiple topics from savants, and telepathy to military protocal and business management. I still have a lot of fleshing out to do.
> 
> These are original characters. All mine. :) 
> 
> The first in a series of atleast 6 books I still have basic plots for in my head. I'm currently writing book 1 and 2 at the same time.

“Thanks for letting me finish my run, Tim.” Destiny said, as she shoved her gym clothes, shoes and I-pod back into the black bag she carried with her. She glanced back at Tim who was sitting behind a desk thumbing through the latest issue of a body building magazine. He was completely bald and over fifty, but he was built like a brick shithouse, and he had a great tan. He was in better shape than most men half his age.  
“No problem, girlie, you know I don’t mind. I have to stay up late tonight anyway since it’s mine and Gina’s anniversary.” Tim waggled his white eyebrows, and laughed at the amused expression on Destiny’s face.  
“Alright,” she chuckled. “Have fun with that, and I will see you…Tuesday.”  
“Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you home? I really don’t like you young ones walking alone at night.”  
“I’m fine Tim. I can take care of myself, besides I live just a few blocks away. Thanks for the offer though.” She waved at Tim as she slung the straps on her bag over her shoulders. The front door to the gym dinged softly as she exited the building, and started walking to her apartment. Going to the gym was something she did on a tri-weekly basis; she didn’t do it to build muscle tone, or to look like a walking Bow Flex advertisement. She did it for a very plain and simple reason; it was something to do to pass the time. When you lived alone, it seemed that time stretched on forever, and Destiny was tired of going to the library and wasting her day away reading books and watching the same ridiculous drama on T.V. Hitting the gym helped to fill up her nights, helped to wear her down enough so she could sleep. It helped keep the ever yawning loneliness at bay.  
She walked past an antique store on her left and a little coffee shop on the corner. Destiny hopped across a little side street and back onto the sidewalk, she gazed up at the title on the community theatre as she strolled by. Her apartment complex was located past the next set of buildings, down a skinny alleyway on the left and across the main four lane street.  
Her footsteps echoed quietly on the pavement as she went down the passageway, then suddenly her gym bag was grabbed off her shoulders, and she was being pulled into a space between the backend of two buildings. Her fingers scraped brick as she struggled to find purchase, her feet dug in the asphalt, making a loud noise as she was yanked from behind. She yelped in surprise, then grimy fingers clamped over her mouth. Destiny’s hand reached up to peel the fingers off her lips, trying to scream the whole time. She was spun around wildly and pushed up against the nearest brick wall. Her legs started kicking frantically, aiming for a knee, or a groin.  
“Let me go!” she shrieked, panic quickening her breath as she fought against her assailant. The man pinning her against the wall spat out a curse as her heel caught him right in the abdomen. Destiny was jerking her head left and right as he continued to try and silence her with his beefy palm. “Please, let me go! Help!” her muffled voice was getting more frantic in pitch. Her hands were scratching at his wrist, grabbing at the hand that covered her mouth; her sweat soaked fingers were clumsy and ineffective.  
Out of nowhere his hand moved in a quick arc and then came this white, blinding pain against the side of her head. Destiny staggered sideways and fell to the ground hard, the right side of her face skinned against the blacktop. She didn’t waste time thinking about the pain, but scrambled up, dodged the arm that grabbed at her and she started running back down the alley. Her attacker followed suit, chasing her down. Destiny’s legs felt shaky and trembled as she ran, causing her to nearly trip as she started off.  
She heard the loud rapport of a gun and realized she was being shot at. Her arms rose up to cover her head and she shouted for help, but no one came to her aid. Destiny ran faster, her gasps for breath echoing in her ears, her heart thudding like a war drum in her head. She knew if she didn’t find help, or find cover, she was going to die. At the end of the alley and across the street was her apartment, if she could make it there she would be safe, surely.  
Against her instinct to gaze forward and to keep hurrying; she looked back over her shoulder. She fearfully realized her mistake when she saw that he was closer than she thought, and he had a finger on the trigger of his handgun. Destiny didn’t even have time to turn her head forward or to think her next thought before her world went gray and then black. She was completely gone before she hit the pavement.

* * *

Hunter Elliot was in the process of unlocking his car when he heard the first gunshot. His dark head whipped in the direction of the sound and he started running down the sidewalk. He heard a sharp scream of help that sounded like it came from a woman. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it in time, then he heard a second shot just a few seconds later. He poured on the strength, hoping to get there before someone ended up hurt. Hunter almost missed the person lying on the ground in an alley to his right. He skidded to a stop and jogged a few yards inward to where the body lay. There was a tall figure sprinting out the other side of the pathway as Hunter was coming in. Scanning the small walkway he could see a bag knocked over about one hundred feet behind the body.  
He was careful as he stepped around the small pool of blood that was continually growing on the pavement. “Hello?” Hunter whispered, as he hunkered down next to the injured being and found himself nudging smooth, chocolate brown hair away from the face of the person lying at his feet, to reveal a striking beauty in profile. There was blood running down the side of her face, coating in her hair, and Hunter could see the circle in the side of her skull where the second shot must have found its mark. She had a rough scrape along her cheek, and when he moved her head to check for other injuries, Hunter spotted a swelling bruise on her left temple.  
She must have been pistol whipped, he mused. Even so he could see she was fit, and remarkably healthy, and he noticed the stunning beauty of her form and face beneath the destruction of a bullet. She wore no jewelry, no makeup and her clothes weren’t torn. There seemed to be no evidence of a robbery or sexual assault. “Can you hear me?” He got no response from the young lady. He felt for a pulse and found one, thin and thready. Hunter watched her chest as it rose and fell with her slow, shallow breaths.  
A car zoomed past the other entrance, and Hunter had no doubt that the light Caprice belonged to the man who had quickly left the scene.  
Hunter looked down again at the wounded female bleeding on his shoes. She may have been close to death, but she was alive, if barely. To him, that was the only thing that counted.  
He pulled the cellphone out of his back pocket and made a phone call.

* * *

“I thought I told you to kill her, you incompetent idiot!” he barked into the phone.  
“I did, sir. Shot her in the head, just like your orders stated. I watched her fall flat on her face.”  
“Then explain to me why she’s lying here in front of me still breathing. Did I mention she has a heartbeat too? Do you know what that means?”  
“Uh, it means she’s still alive, sir.”  
“No.” he bit out. “It means that you didn’t do your job. It means that the quarter of a million dollars I paid you as security goes back into my pocket, and the remaining sum I promised is null and void.”  
“But, but sir, I shot--”  
“I want my money back.” He growled viciously, silencing the other man’s sputtering protests. “In three weeks’ time, I’m coming to your apartment, and I’m going to collect.”  
“But I already…I can’t get it back in three weeks! Give me two months, sir.”  
“Keep trying to negotiate with me, and I’ll make it two weeks.” he threatened.  
The man on the other line swallowed audibly. “Okay, okay whatever you want. Three weeks, I’ll get it all back. Three weeks.”  
“I want it in large unmarked bills, wrapped, and in the briefcase I sent you.”  
“Yes, I still have the briefcase, I’ll get it done.”  
“Good.”  
“But ah…what should I do about the gun? I still have it.”  
“Consider it a parting gift. I’ll take care of everything and finish the job myself. Don’t worry; I’ll see to it that you don’t get your hands dirty.” He hung up the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

Kenneth Marston, Lieutenant; N.Y.P.D. Homicide, viewed the photos on his desk that Forensics faxed to him this morning. He had already visited the site of the attempt shortly after the E.M.S was called, and the local police had secured the scene. He felt like he was missing something.  
Of course, I’m missing something; I’ve got a damn unidentified runner, and a missing weapon, Sherlock.  
This should have been an easy case, shut and close. A young woman gets shot, the perpetrator runs off, police get description of the vehicle that fled the scene, police find the car, police find and arrest the bad guy.  
The only problems were that the person who could accurately describe the shooter had been in a coma since the accident. And the weapon that was used, nearly every man in America could easily own. The bullet that was found at the scene and the other one removed from the victim belonged to a .38 Special, and were a 130 grain, FMJ, copper ball point Blazer round. Frigging perfect.  
Kenny ground his teeth against a headache that was slowly turning into a hell of a migraine. He spent some of the night speaking with the gentleman who called in the shooting, and then knocking on doors and interviewing the victim’s neighbors, none of whom knew much about Destiny. This Sunday morning was spent talking to the owner of the gym she had a beginning membership with. He had been the last person who had seen her, and the first person who had reacted with genuine shock at the news of the shooting.  
“I knew I should have walked her home. I offered, and she naturally declined. She’s the sweetest girl, always polite. Why would anyone want to shoot her?” Tim Daley had asked when he was questioned.  
And that’s the million-dollar question. Why. Was she hiding something? Was it just random, a case of wrong place, wrong time, wrong person? Kenny grilled himself; it was the same cycle of questions over and over. He spent the rest of his morning guzzling coffee while speaking to a specialist at the U.S patent office, trying to get a lead on the make of the ammunition. If he could find out who made the bullet, he could find out who was selling. He could narrow his search down from there.  
His next stop, once the search warrant was completed and received, would be Destiny’s one-bedroom apartment located in a three story building that at one time had been a low-rent motel. He filed his initial report away along with the photos and made a quick trip to the men’s restroom.  
He walked briskly into the administration lobby and announced himself and his business to the smiling secretary at the reception station who told him to wait. Kenny’s gaze roamed the bland beige walls, the hard, plastic chairs that lined one wall. His foot started tapping in mild impatience; he really needed that search warrant. He eyeballed the automatic coffee machine and decided that one more cup of caffeine would help to perk his slugging, sleep-deprived body. He pulled out a crumpled dollar bill, and fished some loose change from his pocket, fed those into the machine and then selected his coffee without cream or sugar. The secretary stated in a pleasant voice, “Commander Redford will see you now, Lieutenant.”  
He grabbed the Styrofoam cup of black coffee that, in his opinion, tasted more like shit.  
It is shit, Austin.  
Oh, well then, it’s not just me.  
Kenny smiled to himself as he took a sip of the scalding, bitter coffee while walking to the commander’s office. “It tastes a bit nutty,” he murmured in a perfect mimicry of Austin Powers.  
“What the hell do you find so funny, Marston?” Commander Redford asked as Kenny closed the door behind him.  
“Sorry, sir. I was indulging a bit of juvenile humor,” he replied as he took his seat.  
“I didn’t ask what you were doing; I asked what you found so funny. Do you think I delight in having to repeat myself?” Commander Redford inquired as he leaned back in his seat, curled his arms behind his head, and gazed at Kenny with his tired eyes.  
“No, sir, I had a piece from Austin Powers running through my head,” Kenny admitted, grudgingly holding up his cup of black coffee.  
“Ah, yeah. Shit coffee, huh?” Kenny wisely kept his mouth shut and stared down at the floor. “Good movie. I’ve been meaning to start ordering from another vendor. But that’s not exactly on my list of priorities right now.” Redford leaned forward and opened a folder then slipped a piece of paper across his desk. “Here is the warrant you requested this morning. I expect a full report on your findings in my office when you’re finished.”  
Kenny skimmed the document quickly and nodded his compliance. “Yes, sir, I shouldn’t be long.”  
“I’m glad you were able to close on the Littleton case so quickly, Marston.”  
“Me too,” Kenny agreed. He rubbed his burning eyes with one hand and took another sip of coffee. “I’m glad the bastard is dead. Hopefully this one won’t be as bad.”  
“We all are. Good luck.” Commander Redford dismissed him.  
The landlord unlocked Destiny Merrick’s apartment, and Kenny pulled on his latex gloves from his field kit. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here.” He turned his audio recorder on and clipped it on the collar of his shirt. The owner shut the door behind Kenny, and he was enveloped in eerie quiet.  
“Kenneth Marston, Lieutenant, NYPD Homicide. 12:09 p.m., at Destiny Merrick’s residence; 205 North Strings Street. Apartment number 4, second story, section C. The place looks clean, well kept. Although it smells like the last tenant smoked like a freight train.” The smell of stale cigarettes always brought back the craving he’d kicked some two years back. Stress on the job didn’t help it much either, or he shook his head as his right hand automatically patted his empty breast pocket, still subconsciously looking for the pack of Marlboros he’d kept there for twenty years. He looked at the bare walls which bore no picture frames, no nail holes, and no knickknacks. “She paid her rent every month according to her landlord. He had no problems out of her, said she was quiet. She had a year lease which she renewed again seven months ago. Even though she’s lived here for a year and a half there is nothing on the walls.”  
Her living room consisted of a bookshelf on which her small 16 inch television and DVD player sat upon, a brown rocking chair that looked like it had seen better days, and a blue velour couch that still bore imprints of jeans from the last person who had sat there. “No curtains just blinds that came with the apartment. Small DVD selection…Phantom of the Opera, 300, Queen of the Damned, Rent, Sweeney Todd…apparently, she has an interest in gothic musicals. Her bookcase is filled. All clean.” He stepped into the ridiculously tiny bathroom. The shower and commode were clean, and she had towels hanging from the towel rod. Kenny opened her vanity mirror and found makeup, a glass tube of perfume, a six-month prescription of contacts, a glasses case. He opened up her case and he squinted his eyes as he gazed through her glasses. He winced and put the glasses back where they belonged. “Damn, she’s as blind as a bat. Hmm let’s see here…” He rummaged through the cabinets underneath her sink. “Nothing here but toilet paper.”  
Kenny opened the door to her bedroom which was just as bland as the rest of her apartment. She had a twin bed in the corner, which was partially made, some clothes on the floor, and an alarm clock on the small chest of drawers. Kenny browsed through her bedroom furniture and found nothing incriminating. He spotted her cell phone still charging on the floor between her bed and the wall along with her purse. “Located cellular phone completely charged. HTC Salsa. Putting in evidence bag. I need to make and double check her list of contacts and recent calls or text messages, her identification is in her purse, I will make a copy, and confirm I.D.”  
He zipped the bag shut and stepped inside her walk-in closet. She had nice clothes although the selection was poor. Her shoes were neatly lined along one wall. There were two pairs and a hole where a set should have been. There was a shelf above her clothes rail and he skimmed over it. “Bingo, ladies and gentlemen. Our lady kept a journal, hopefully it is current. Putting this in evidence also.”  
Her kitchen was making a pitiful attempt to pretend it still had walking space between the large appliances and the side of the adjoining bedroom wall. She had no dining room table; her refrigerator was nearly empty save for a door full of condiments, a half empty 12 pack of Pepsi and some lunch meat. “I don’t think the kid eats. Her kitchen is clean except for some plastic ware in the sink.” Kenny shook his head and checked his watch. He’d been inside her apartment leafing through her personal space for the better part of two hours and didn’t find a lot to go on. He was hoping her journal, or her phone would bring some better news. Better yet he hoped that the lab reports would kick the case into gear. He removed his gloves and tossed them into her trash can. He double checked the locks as he walked out of her place then he slid into the front seat of his cruiser. Kenny buckled his seat belt and just sat there, staring at the apartment complex. He scrubbed his hand over his face, dreading the rest of the day. It was going to be a long one. He put the car in drive and headed over to the police station.  
Kenny swung by a gas station on the way back, and grabbed a tuna salad sandwich, knowing he’d not eaten since last night before he caught two hours of sleep. He was munching on his late lunch when he stepped into his office. He took a seat and started reading through Destiny’s notes she’d scribbled down throughout the last year. He found nothing to go on; the last entry was dated three months prior and held no important information. Her phone was secured by a 10-digit passkey, which was a job someone in the electronic division would be able to crack within the next few days hopefully. By then he was praying that the lab results would come in and would reveal some worthy evidence. Kenny finished his sandwich, threw the aluminum foil into the nearest trashcan, and wished for a soda to wash away the taste in his mouth.  
By the time he’d typed up and sent the report, then tracked down someone in ED with an opening to work on Destiny Merrick’s cell phone, his vision was bleary, and he was cross eyed. He’d been almost 24 hours with no rest. His next course of action would be to drive home to his condo without killing anyone in the meantime and try to sleep until his alarm went off the next morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so fun to write. If I had a book boyfriend it would be a hard tie between the three men I introduce in this chapter, they each have such strong characteristics that I personally can't figure out which one I like best. And before you ask, yes I have stories for all of them, tucked away in my head.

Hunter unlocked and opened the door to his three storied home, as he stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was that some upbeat pop music was coming from the television he’d turned off before he left the house that morning. He figured maybe his younger brother was doing cardio exercise, but that didn’t make sense to do that in the living room considering the house had a workout room downstairs. He leaned to the left and peeked around the corner to see his brother, Draven, sitting on the couch dressed in a pair of black sweats, and a white muscle shirt munching on a bag of Pretzels.  
After removing his shoes and sitting down his briefcase, Hunter walked into the living room and stood behind the couch. He stared at the T.V and watched a leggy woman who had short blonde hair, dance her way through a crowd of women who were all likewise dancing to the music.  
“What the hell are you watching?” Hunter scowled down at his brother.  
Draven popped a pretzel in his mouth and replied while he chewed. “The Ellen DeGeneres Show. She’s a groovy lady, I like her.”  
Hunter flicked his gaze back to the show, and Ellen was now straddling a coffee table on the stage and she wiggled and shook her way to the other side. “I’m beginning to think you and I can’t share the same DNA, Draven. Why are you watching this?”  
“Well,” Draven mumbled around another mouthful as he gestured with the remote. “See, she and I have a lot in common.”  
Hunter arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “Like what?”  
“We both loooove the ladies.” Draven turned around and gave Hunter a slow wink.  
Hunter barked out a laugh, turned around picked up his briefcase and sauntered to the staircase. “Right. The only ladies you love are Rosy Palm and her five sisters.”  
It took a second for the insult to set in. “Aww, did you have to go there? That’s so wrong.” Draven glared across the room at Hunter’s figure as he made his way up to the second story.  
“Don’t talk to me about wrong. I’m not the one watching talk shows. What else to do watch, the Lifetime channel?” he sneered.  
Draven curled his feet up on the couch and got more comfortable. “Nah, too emotional. I like QVC personally.”  
Hunter rolled his eyes and smiled at Draven’s antics. “I’m going to take a shower, I’ll be out and I’ll start on dinner.”  
“Alright, I’m calling Kieran over since its Friday; you know he’ll want a place to crash once he drops Troy off.”  
“That’s fine; tell him not to bring anything from Taco Hell cause I’m making supper.” Hunter didn’t bother waiting for a reply as he opened the door to his office and put his case on his desk. Then he walked down to the next room which was his bedroom. He quickly got undressed, and then went into his adjoining bathroom. He looked at the pad beside his shower and pressed the User1 button. The shower started spraying water set to the specified degree.   
Hunter showered, washed his hair, rinsed and dried off quickly then wrapped the damp towel around his hips. He ran an electric shaver over the stubble growing on his cheeks, brushed his teeth and put deodorant on. He then sauntered into his master bedroom and went to his closet. He selected a pair of blue jeans and an Affliction t-shirt and tossed them on his bed. He slipped on a pair of boxers and put on the remainder of his clothes. He felt much better in casual clothes; he was never one for suits and ties, although in order to play the part of a wealthy businessman he had to dress sharp. But when he was home, he was more concerned about feeling comfortable than looking like he’d stepped out of a GQ magazine.  
Running his fingers through his hair, as he checked his appearance in the mirror, he wondered how well his liquor bar was stocked. Kieran was bound and determined to drink himself into a stupor every weekend and Hunter would rather he do it at this house, than slamming bars and driving around drunk. If Kieran wanted to drown his misery in privacy then at least here he would be safe.   
Hunter made his way back downstairs and back toward the kitchen, and began making an Americanized version of one of his favorite dishes, one he hadn’t had in a while. Hunter wasn’t much of a cook, but his father liked to make Rouladen enough times that Hunter finally asked to learn how. It took a whopping two and half hours to make so he decided to try something new in the preparation that might cut the cooking time in half.  
An hour later, they were all seated at Hunter’s dinner table curiously eyeballing their plates. Kieran pushed his no-frame glasses up on his nose and said in an aristocratic tone “I’m not trying to be rude, but what is this called?”  
“Rouladen,” Hunter replied, “It’s a German dish my father taught me a few years ago.”   
Kieran nodded his head briefly and sampled the food on his plate. “This is really good! I don’t cook much, but I’m sure Troy would like this since he’s going through a burger phase right now. Is this how it’s usually done? I’d like to try and make this one night while we’re at home.”  
“I doubt Troy would eat it the authentic way, it looks vulgar. Although, I do get a kick out of watching Draven stuff a phallic looking piece of food in his piehole.” Hunter grinned as Draven gave him an eat-shit-and-die glare from across the table. Hunter switched his attention back to Kieran, and began explaining how to make what they were eating for dinner.  
“I will definitely have to try this. Trying to get the kid to eat is like trying to pull teeth, and my kitchen is getting dust covered. I don’t think I’ve really been in it since Serena passed. I have no idea where anything is, because I’ve not bothered to look.” Kieran’s voice softened at the mention of his deceased wife’s name. He could still feel the hole in his chest left there by her death almost a year ago. Nothing he could do or say would fill it. Spending time with Troy was a balm to ease the pain, but too many memories lingered in his empty house when he was gone, and Kieran could see echoes of Serena’s face creeping in their son’s ever changing features. She was a constant haunt. Kieran struggled daily with his desire to move on, and times like these were the worst. Invading her space, her kitchen, made him feel guilty; like he wanted to banish her presence, when all he really wanted to do was learn to live with it.   
“I know it’s hard, and I’m sorry,” Hunter said softly, knowing where Kieran’s mind went the moment he said her name. His expression became pinched and closed off, but his eyes were dark pools of swirling emotional torment filled with shame, guilt, and most of all, loss. “But maybe if you do this with Troy, it might help both of you. There’s nothing wrong with remembering her,” he suggested.  
Kieran sighed, knowing Hunter was right. But his heart said something far different. “I know, but every day that goes by it feels like I’m forgetting her, little by little,” he confessed. “I just don’t want little man to resent me by thinking I’m trying to take her place. I just try to take it one day at a time, and try to be as strong as I can, especially with Troy around.”  
“That’s all you can do, and let time do the rest.”  
The conversation changed to more upbeat topics brought in by Draven, who always had a funny story to tell. Once everyone ran out of things to share and talk about, Hunter began clearing away dishes. “I hope the food was okay.”  
“You can feed me for free anytime man.” Kieran replied as he rubbed his full stomach, his mood improved by good food and good conversation.  
“I’ll second that.” Draven replied.  
Hunter smiled “I already feed you for free, you lout.” He eyed the clean kitchen and dining room save for the dishes as he wiped his hands on a towel hanging from the stove which he had meticulously cleaned earlier. “I’ve got a few errands to run, so I won’t be back until later. You’re more than welcome to stay as late as you want, Kieran. I know it’s been a pretty rough work week, I’m sure.” Kieran nodded his head in agreement. “As always, we’ve got plenty of room here; nab a guest room if you’d like later.”  
“Thanks.”  
Once Hunter was finished with his kitchen cleaning, he went upstairs to his bedroom. He grabbed a bag he’d stashed in his closet, whipped up the car keys from his dresser and headed downstairs and outside to his car. The only errand he had planned was spending the remainder of his evening at the hospital.

* * *

Hunter walked through the side entry doors of Charity Lakes Medical Center, and made his way past the waiting room, towards the admittance window. He pushed the speaker button and stated his business, the nurse sitting there nodded her head and the double doors opened up. His long legged gait ate up the distance as he strode down the hallway, past many pictures and many rooms until he came to the first set of elevator doors. Destiny’s room was on the fourth floor.  
Once he got there he went to the nurse’s station and asked to speak with the head nurse in charge. She was stepping out of a file room when she saw him. “Hi, Hunter,” she greeted hurriedly. “How are you?”  
“I’m fine; I was just inquiring on Destiny’s condition.”  
“She’s still the same, sorry.” Her expression was sympathetic, “You can visit her if you like, and we moved her into a private room this afternoon after you called.” She gave him the room number with a smile.  
He murmured his thanks and made his way to her new room.   
The room was dimly lit, and quiet. The window directly across the door was covered in closed blinds; the walls of the room were a soft cream color that complimented the border that danced around the upper perimeter of the area. Her bed was against the wall on the left, and he stared at her slim figure, barely making an impression against the white bed sheets. The heart monitor beeped softly in time with her pulse. There was a green oxygen tank hanging on the wall by her bed, and he noticed she now had tubes in her nose. Before all he could see was the breathing tube they’d put in her mouth. It was an improvement that she was breathing on her own.  
She had a blood pressure cuff strapped around her right arm, and one part of her head was shaved where they had removed the bullet, then put monitors on her scalp to help supervise her brain waves. There was an I.V in each of her thin hands, and a catheter bag hung below the bed rail. It was a pitiful sight to be honest. Even more so by the fact that she wasn’t conscious; her lack of awareness made her seem ridiculously frail.  
Hunter’s gaze drank in her small elfin features. Her chocolate brown hair was neatly brushed, but still looked lanker every time he saw her, like it was becoming lifeless; just as she was. Her complexion that had the moderate healthy glow of a natural, summer tan was now paling quickly. Her eyes were sinking further into her head, making her face look gaunt, and hollowed out. Her lips were colorless and cracked in some places, especially in the corners of her mouth.  
In his opinion she looked pitiful. And the fortune he’d made in all the years of his life could do nothing to save her. He could buy her top of the line medication, the best private room the hospital had to offer, the most expensive treatments, creature comforts…none of it mattered if she didn’t come out of this alive. Every dollar he’d spent on her he hoped would make up for the fact that he had come to her rescue a minute too late.  
Hunter swallowed the guilt, the pity, and the urge to “what if” himself to death. He could get nowhere running himself into the ground. It was the past, and he just didn’t make it on time to save her. What he could do for her now was what was important.  
He took a seat next to her bed, reached out with one hand and rubbed her ice cold fingers. “Hey, it’s me again. I thought I would come by and see how you’re doing. I’m glad to see you’re breathing on your own; that’s a good sign.” His eyes danced around the room, grappling for anything to say that made sense. “Your doctor said maybe you can hear things…that you may be aware so, I hope you can hear me. I spoke with the detective on your case this morning, and he said that the lab results came in yesterday and they found a partial fingerprint on one of the bullets, so they’re going to run that and see if All Data comes up with a match. Detective Marston said also, that your attacker was African-American, going the by the skin they found under your fingernails. So at least they’re getting somewhere.”  
Releasing her hand he bent down and retrieved the plastic bag which held a half dozen white Cosmos flowers, with one brilliant white and purple lined Picotee in the center. He pulled out the lavender vase he’d carefully selected, filled it with lukewarm water and arranged the small bouquet on her bedside table. “I bought you some flowers as a get well gift. I hope you like these; I hope you wake up soon so you can see them. They’re fragile, but beautiful, and these blooms have a light, delicate scent, so maybe it will help with the hospital smell.” Hunter ran his fingers through his hair as he watched her breathe so slowly. His hand clasped her small, limp hand again, as if he were holding onto a lifeline. He felt like he’d memorized every groove in her knuckles, the traceable pattern of her blue veins beneath her skin, the soft curve of her ivory fingernails. He dared not let his hands touch her elsewhere, he felt like it was a violation of her personal privacy to graze so much as a finger along the shell of her ear, or to touch the side of her face, to skim his tapered thumb against her cheekbone. Even though he wanted to, as if the touch of her skin could assuage the tremendous amount of guilt that he felt. But his black eyes never left her face, searching her features for a sign of awareness; the flicker of an eyelash, the roll of her eyes beneath the lids, a faint smile, or a tremor in her fingertips…anything. She offered him nothing.  
Hunter’s gaze roamed her face again, falling on her pale chapped lips. “I brought some Carmex for your mouth; it’s chapped. I’ll leave it here on the table and I’ll tell the nurses to use it often.” His spare hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out a brand new yellow tube. He twisted off the cap and squeezed out a small dab of gel. He realized his fingers were trembling slightly as he brought it to her mouth, so he tightened his grip to steady himself. He did a quick swipe on her bottom lip, smoothed the rest on her top and made sure to smear the some extra medication in the corners of her mouth where the chapping was worse.   
“I hope that feels better.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, and despite his inner discipline his fingers were shaking still as he screwed on the cap and placed it on the table. He gently cleared his throat, and looked again at her heart monitor. He checked his watch and realized he’d only been there for a half hour. He stared at the second hand that ticked time away and wondered vaguely how much time Destiny had left, how much time he had left with her, how much time he had to get a chance to make this right for her. The numbers on his watch began to blur with his ominous thoughts, and he ground away the tears he felt building behind his eyes. “Sorry,” he apologized quietly then he clasped her right hand again. He stared at her pale, comatose face and knew where he was spending the next few hours. “I’m so damned sorry. For everything.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destiny wakes up in the hospital here. She is introduced to a character that will play a pivotal part to this series. Here you learn about some of her memories, and how she has already become sub-consciously aware of Hunter. That connection is one I can't wait to build.   
> Dr. Rosencoff is an interesting person. Multifaceted...quite literally. You will be seeing a lot of him later on in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to "Everything Burns" when I started writing the chapter and thought it would make a great introduction. I had thought about incorporating a playlist with this series, songs I'd listened to while I wrote, or that were mentioned within the chapters. 
> 
> I had also written a side short story about Jeremy Greyson in his younger years, before he meets Hunter. It's very dark in nature, but it really helped me to understand the way he worked and what role he could play in this series I have in my head.

It felt like she was in an ocean, her consciousness succumbing to the tide, leaving her to rise and fall into awareness at its will. The first time it happened, her eyes cracked opened and she was able to view her surroundings for a few seconds through her eyelashes. She saw people who were moving about hurriedly becoming fuzzy blurs of color. She knew something was wrong with her, but she didn’t have time to think about what it was, or what it meant. Destiny’s view came sharper into focus and she saw the drum of a stethoscope swinging in front of her face. She was being moved somehow, and quickly too. She heard voices speaking rapidly, but it was as though she was hearing everything through a foghorn, everything was inaudible, coming either too fast or too slow for her to comprehend. Then the darkness swallowed her whole.  
Everything was quiet now, and she floated to the surface finding calmness. She vaguely remembered waking up before but was unaware of when. The passing of time was not important where she was; that void of black that was her home. She only knew when her mind was waking up, swirling toward the wakeful world that pulled her into its grasp. Destiny tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. It felt like they weighed a ton, but she could hear, and she could feel with enhanced awareness. She knew she wasn’t alone.   
A smooth, deep voice started speaking to her; she heard the strange lilts of vowels and rolling, soft, consonants that suggested a lot of time spent in Europe. The voice belonged to a man, who sounded cultured, polite. He was telling her about his day, the things he had done, who he had spoken to.   
“I don’t understand how he and I turned out to be so different. I was raised in Scotland with my mother, and he was raised here in the states with our father until I was twelve, but Draven and I are like night and day.” When this stranger spoke, the words mother and father held traces of an accent, changing them to sound like mether and faither. She thought it was odd to hear hints of his upbringing in the timbre of his voice, so new against the clipped roughness she usually heard here in New York.  
She could feel his fingers grazing lightly on the inside of her palm, causing almost painfully sensitive sensation. His thumb was dancing over the hills and valleys of her knuckles, smoothing onto the top of her hand, moving randomly about her hand as he spoke. “Draven and I both have a lot of our dad’s features, we’re both built the same; same dark hair, same physique only I’m six foot two. Draven is four inches shorter than I. We look a lot alike except for our eyes; that’s really the only distinguishing feature between us, save for our heights. Draven’s eyes are like our mothers’ and they remind me of my home, of Scotland. Green, like the hills you’d see in the background when you look through Loch Linnhe, or like the forest of trees that cover the land of Glendaruel. It’s like mother left a piece of herself behind in Draven, so I’d always see her in him. So I’d always know where I came from.” He paused for a second, and then added “It’s beautiful there in the central highlands where I grew up.”   
Destiny wanted to speak, to tell this stranger that she agreed that she was sure it was; his voice said just as much and she could hear his deep love and longing for his home country. But her tongue stayed glued to the roof of her mouth, and she stayed mute, then her heart nearly froze in panic when the lulling sound of his speech started fading away and echoing through the depths of the well she lived in, the one that sucked her slowly down. It ignored the internal struggle she faced with wanting to stay awake and she tried so hard to cling to the words that melted away the smothering darkness. But Destiny was pulled under anyway and she knew nothing more.  
In her head she heard a soft, violin playing a mournful melody; heard bongos being tapped along in rhythm, then the occasional strum of an acoustic guitar adding another layer to the music. Destiny’s heart knew the words long before Hana Pestle’s ethereally pure, sugary voice crooned the first verse of “Everything Burns.” Harmonies joined in, adding a calming presence amidst the lonesome evocation of the song. Then Ben Moody’s raw, tragically angered voice brought the tone higher in the chorus as he joined along, their duet holding a hauntingly perfect emotion in the notes they held and sang together.  
This was her favorite song, and a ghost of a smile curved her lips in enjoyment. As the music continued playing in her head she became aware of a constant beeping noise. The smile faded from her face as the song faded from her mind. Her eyes opened to a dimly lit room, painted in a creamy color. She knew immediately from the smell that she was in a hospital. Astringent, bleach, and sanitary cleaner seemed to have burned its way into the walls of her nose; they were faint scents, but they were powerful and easily recognizable. Her vision was very bad and all she could make out was that it was night, judging by the lack of light through the blinds partially opened to her left. Destiny turned her head slowly, amazed by how difficult it was to do that simple movement.   
On the bedside table to the right was a vase of blurry flowers, their vibrant orange blooms were closed, but they looked fresh. She had no idea what kind they were. There was a pink pitcher, and further past was a digital clock; Destiny tried to squint her eyes, and strained to read the small, blue lighted numbers. It was hard to see, and the numbers were foggy and kept changing. She sighed and gave up in frustration. She really needed her glasses, for she couldn’t see anything without them. Her vision, without correction was just an irritating guessing game.   
The blood pressure cuff on her arm began to tighten in increments until she could feel the pulse throbbing in the tips of her fingers, could feel the blood straining to flow through the veins in her upper arm, it was painful for a few seconds before it released slowly with a whiff of air. Her eyes rolled back and to the side to see if she could read the numbers on the monitor attached to the wall.   
Seconds later there was a faint knock on the door and someone with pale hair and blue scrubs stepped in. They were talking to someone outside and the conversation ended as the door closed behind them. Destiny could tell that this person was tall and had short hair, so she assumed correctly that it was a man. She could feel when his gaze jumped from the monitor to her face.  
“Hello Miss Merrick, I’m glad to see that you’re awake. Can you hear me?”  
“Yes.” She croaked out.  
“Good.” The nurse introduced himself. “I’m Jeremy Greyson, and I am the head nurse here in the ICU.” He walked over to the nightstand poured her a plastic glass of water, and then began raising the bed to a sitting position. Destiny struggled to raise her arms to grasp the cup, but her whole body felt lethargic. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” he reassured her. One of his hands cradled her head and he brought the water to her lips with the other. The water washed away the slimy thick coating in her mouth that tasted faintly of mint. The next swallow moistened her desert dry throat, the next felt better going down. Jeremy drew the cup away.  
“Where am I?” Destiny asked.  
Jeremy placed the empty glass on the table, and opened a drawer, pulling out a familiar gold case which contained her purple rimmed glasses. He placed them carefully on her nose, and swept his fingers behind each ear to ensure proper placement. “You are at Charity Lakes Medical Center, in Arden, New York.” Destiny opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Jeremy raised a hand to silence her before she spoke. “You’ve been here for two weeks and two days, in a coma due to an accident.”  
“Accident? What accident?”  
“You were victim of a random shooting.” Jeremy tightened his lips, debating on how much to tell her. He went with his instincts and told her the rest.  
Destiny took a moment with her thoughts as she shuffled through this new information. She had no memory of the shooting, the following surgery, was completely unaware of the loss of time. “When can I leave?” Her focused gaze jumped to his very pale ice eyes. She noticed his hair was a silvery blonde, almost white, and was anything but short. His pale hair was brushed close to his scalp and secured with a black band of elastic, allowing the rope of his hair to swing freely to the bottom of his shoulder blades. His winged eyebrows were likewise the same color, and they added a sharp awareness to his eyes which she saw were a bleached blue-grey glazed over with pink. His skin was so pale his veins were apparent beneath.   
“That will be determined by your doctor, and also by how well you improve.”   
“I’ve had…there were times when I was aware. I could hear someone talking to me, he spoke funny. Who was here with me?”  
A grin spread across Jeremy’s face. “That is the guy who found you; his name is Hunter Elliot, owner of Elliot Empires Incorporated. He comes here every night to see you, to see how you are. He’s been giving our nursing staff hell over you.”  
Destiny thought of the buildings in New York City about an hour away, knew that he owned a lot of them. What was someone as rich as him doing in a place like Arden?  
“He works in NYC doesn’t he? I’m honestly not worth an hour’s drive.”  
“He lives here, but just because he owns majority of New York City, doesn’t mean that he commutes there every day. Hunter is a personal friend of mine. We met in the military some ten years ago. He’s a really good guy, and if he thinks you’re worth his time, there isn’t anyone with half a brain who will talk him out of it.” Jeremy said with a wry expression on his face. “Trust me, I tried it. He promised to break my back in half and make me eat my own ass if I got in his way.”  
“Wow! Evil much?” Destiny asked with a chuckle.   
“You can ask him yourself. I must call him as soon as I get back to the nurse’s station. If I don’t, I’m sure he’ll make good on his other threat and extract my lower intestine and hang me with it.” At Destiny’s look of shock, he touched her arm. “He’s kidding. Most times, but he just wants to make sure you’re taken care of. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t bother. Take it as a compliment, the man only cares about his brother and his dad, and that’s about it. Everyone else is the equivalent of a dung beetle as far as he’s concerned.”  
Destiny swallowed the distress that was dwindling quickly at Jeremy’s touch. “I hope he isn’t worried about me, really. I’m just a stranger. He sounds like he has a violent sense of humor, I hope he doesn’t act on it,” she said.  
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else in this building with my life. He’s different than most men, I’ll grant him that. Black Ops probably was not the best thing for him, but he’s better for it in some ways. You’re safe. He’s been here sixteen nights in a row with you alone. Hunter won’t hurt you.”  
Destiny nodded her head. Jeremy explained that there would be a slew of nurses in and out now that she was conscious, to take out the feeding tube, and catheter, to give her a bath. He ordered her to rest as much as possible, that he would be back tomorrow night as his shift would end in a half hour, and then exited the room, the door closing with a click. She looked at the clock that read 5:37 a.m. The fact that over two weeks had passed left her stunned, her lack of memory made the matter seem like her past was just a yawning, black abyss. She wasn’t for sure of the day, couldn’t remember what her job was, or even if she had one. Her age was just something she felt, not something she knew.   
I wonder what else I’ve forgotten about myself, she thought, trying to pull recent memories out of thin air, she just encountered a mental brick wall that gave her nothing concrete. She hoped that, as much as she hated hospitals, that her doctor would help give her some information she could use to link everything together again. 

“So, this is the plan,” Dr. Christopher Rosencoff said, as he sat across from Destiny in his little chair with wheels, his fingers forming a steeple, elbows braced on his knees. “We’re going to start you on physical therapy every day this week to build back muscle control and to help with your mobility; you will be scheduled for PT weekly once you are released. I’m going to start you on some medication to help with your memory loss, what I will be prescribing is used mostly on Alzheimer’s patients, and studies have shown that it helps with temporary memory loss due to short term comas. We’ve been running antibiotics in your I.V but you can take them in pill form now, so that will also be added to your list of medications along with Hydrocodone for your pain. We’re going to try that out and see if it helps, I can change it if it doesn’t touch your discomfort level.”   
Destiny nodded her head in understanding, and then asked, “When will I get to leave?”  
Dr. Rosencoff’s dark blond eyebrows raised slightly, his palms opened in an I-don’t-know gesture. “That really depends on how well you respond to therapy and to the medication. If we can get you walking by the end of the week, there shouldn’t be any reason why you can’t leave. But your memory is going to be harder to jog awake. If I don’t see any improvements in at least three weeks then you may have to undergo psychiatry, or we will have to change the medicine you’re taking.”  
“What if I don’t remember anything by three weeks or later?”  
The doctor’s blue eyes were unblinking as they held her questioning stare. “If your memory isn’t revived in six weeks, either through time or medicine, then it is likely the loss is permanent. But” he added, “With your quick recovery thus far, I don’t see that being an issue at all. Just be calm, and everything will come back naturally, I’m sure.”  
Panic crawled up her throat, quickened her heartbeat and fluttered in her stomach. “But what if I don’t?” Her voice was thready when she wanted it to be strong, and assertive. She wanted to shake the doctor’s calm poise, his assurance, rattle it so he felt like she did.   
“Then we will deal with that when we get there. We’ve already deduced that you know your address, and that’s been within the hour we’ve talked, you know where you work. You weren’t familiar with the gym you used to go to, but you had just recently started going about three months ago, according to the owner, so you’ve only lost about three months of memory, maybe four. And I know that it sounds like a lot, but in the span of your twenty-three years, four months really isn’t much to lose at all. I have complete confidence that you will regain most if not all of your memory. Just give the medicine time to work, and our back up plan is a psychiatrist if worst comes to worst.” His voice was pleasant, his words reassuring, but Destiny noticed that his gaze was blank. In her heart she felt as though he could really give a rat’s ass one way or the other whether her memory returned or not. His lack of genuine concern caused her to feel uneasy, made it easier not to trust him. But she’d always felt that way about doctors, and her experiences with them were anything but good.  
She shoved away the burgeoning memory of her being a scared little girl, laying on a bed with a nurse she didn’t know who gripped her hand, as her legs were spread and her small feet placed on stirrups by a male doctor with an emotionless mask for a face.  
Destiny looked down at her pristine white sheets, and took a deep breath. She wished this memory loss was voluntary and that she got to pick the things she wanted to forget. Destiny pressed her lips together, trying to fight the anxiety. She cleared her throat and flicked her gaze back to Dr. Rosencoff’s face. He seemed vaguely familiar somehow, but she couldn’t place it. She knew she’d never met him in her entire life, but this moment felt like something she’d dreamed before, like dejavu. “Alright,” she agreed hesitantly. “I’ll try.”  
A brief smile curled the doctor’s lips, but didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s my girl. I’ll let you recuperate today, so just take it easy. All the fun stuff starts tomorrow.” He picked up his small stack of papers and copies of her x-rays he’d placed on her bed and slid his ink pen back into the breast pocket of his white coat. “I’ll make you a copy of all of these to take home with you, and I’ll see if the cafeteria staff can make you a light breakfast. We serve lunch promptly at noon, and dinner at five, and I have you on a semi-solid menu for the next two days. After that, there will be no limits on your diet. Do you have any other questions for me?”  
“No,” she answered.  
“Alright, then I’ll leave you to yourself.” Dr. Rosencoff gave her a curt nod, and walked out of her room.  
Shortly thereafter a nurse came in bearing a tray with several dishes that were covered with lids. She placed the tray on the table and rolled it so that it hung over Destiny’s lap. There was a clear glass of orange juice, and another clear glass of milk on the tray as well. “I’ll bring in your medication, and you can take them with your breakfast Miss Merrick.”  
“Thank you,” Destiny replied automatically. The biggest bowl was scrambled eggs, another plate opened revealed a piece of toast with a small package of jelly, and a tiny container of spreadable butter. The last was a small pink bowl filled with red jelly.  
Geez, the doc wasn’t kidding about a light breakfast. She hated hospital food; it always tasted like salty cardboard, after trying a sample of the milky scrambled eggs her opinion didn’t change. Destiny guzzled down the glass of orange juice to get the taste out of her mouth. The nurse came and placed a small clear cup with pills ranging in size and color, then quickly left the room. Destiny hated taking pills too; in the end she figured she just wasn’t hospital material. She hated everything about them. Trying to swallow the horse pill sized Hydro was going to be a challenge she wasn’t looking forward to, and she scowled down at the oval shaped medicine she tipped into the palm of her hand.  
“Glaring at it won’t make it disappear, unfortunately,” said a familiar voice.  
Destiny’s gaze snapped up to take in the stranger she didn’t hear enter her room, but she knew who he was even though she’d never seen him before. That slight Scott’s accent in a melodic roughened voice couldn’t have belonged to the guy she saw standing in a sardonic pose, one shoulder on the corner, hip cocked out to the side, feet and arms neatly crossed.  
Hunter Elliot was drop-dead gorgeous, downright beautiful even. Destiny blushed when she realized she was staring. “I know, I just hate taking these damn things. I don’t know why they couldn’t do this through my I.V. Apparently Dr. Rosencoff thinks I’m a glutton for punishment,” she said wryly.  
Hunter chuckled, his grin showing off straight white teeth. He straightened up and took a few steps toward her, a smile still curving his full lips. “I’m Hunter Elliot. I found you after your accident. Sorry to barge in on you.”  
“I know who you are. I remember you talking to me…kind of. But I don’t mind the company.” Destiny put the tops on all of her dishes, and felt mildly guilty about not finishing her breakfast. She swallowed her pain pill with the glass of milk still left, then pushed her table away and offered Hunter the chair by her bed.  
“How are you doing? Feeling okay?”   
Destiny looked into his eyes to measure his sincerity; all the secrets to someone’s emotions lay in the eyes. Hunter’s eyes could have swallowed her down into their dark oily depths; they were black as onyx, shiny like polished stone, but his expression was honest with worry. She watched almost mesmerized as Hunter slid into the offered chair with a grace that belied his height and huge sweep of shoulders. His biceps flexed slightly in his short sleeved white dress shirt as his arms bent and then settled onto the arms of the chair. His skin was tanned a light golden brown that complimented the dark shock of hair on his head which looked like he’d been running his fingers through it all morning.  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
Amusement brushed the sharp angles of his face and softened his gaze. “I asked how you were.”  
Destiny grinned sheepishly and adjusted the blanket over her legs. “Sorry, I’m staring. I’m doing fine, especially for having just come out of a coma for two weeks. I heard you visited me every day. Even though I don’t know you, it was a nice gesture.”  
Hunter smiled to himself, an emotion darkening his already black stare as he held her gaze with his own. “It’s the least I could do, Destiny. It would have been rude for me to have done otherwise.”  
Destiny shrugged, “Well now that I’m conscious you don’t have to keep coming here to see me. I can manage fine on my own. I’m sure you’re busy enough managing your business to deal with me.”  
“I won’t lie, I am busy, but I’ve made time out of my days and nights to keep you company from day one, and I will continue to do so until I feel certain you are well. I’m sure you do fine on your own, but you don’t do it to be independent; you do it because you have no one else but yourself. I admire that in you, but it’s not necessary to do this on your own. I’ll help because I want to, not because I think I have to.”  
Destiny could tell by the tone in his voice that he wouldn’t be swayed in his decision. His attitude seemed to match the no nonsense business suit he was wearing, and she knew that he hadn’t made his way to where he was by being a doormat.  
“My doctor told me I should be able to leave by the end of this week,” she informed.  
“That’s good. I’m sure you’re looking forward to going home huh?”  
“You could say that. Hospitals and I don’t exactly get along very well. I just hope whenever I get out of here that I can pick up and move on where I left off.” She stayed silent for a few moments, racking her brain for topics of conversation that wouldn’t make her sound like an idiot. “The night shift nurse Jeremy said that you two knew each other.”  
Hunter’s posture eased up immediately, he crossed one foot over to rest on top of the other knee. His dark head settled back onto the chair. “Yeah, Greyson and I go waaay back. He and I were just kids when we went into service, and we both worked our way up into Black Ops so fast we were practically military prodigies. We were teamed together on our first tour over into Israel. I’d seen so much hell over there, I got out the first chance I could. I wasn’t the only one; several men in our battalion chose not to come back. Jeremy was one of them, but he and I have still been buddies.” He choked out a laugh, “I could have damn near strangled my brother when I heard he had enlisted as soon as he turned eighteen. I’d already been two years in, and they were thinking about putting us on the offense and sending us straight into Russia. The war back then was dangerous they would have sent Draven to either location. Our nation’s main focus was those two countries; they weren’t sending men and women to do a two year stint in England and then ship them back to the states for another two years. It was a do-or-die situation.” Hunter paused briefly “the war still hasn’t changed, they’re still looking for terrorists, but I’m just glad that everyone I cared about made it out alive.”  
“I’m sure you are. I would have been too, if I had anyone to lose. So did you do a lot of stuff at night? Jeremy is an albino, I think; he probably can’t do much during the day.”  
“Yeah, he is,” Hunter confirmed.  
“But I thought albinos didn’t have pink eyes, that they were normally colored like everyone else.”  
“Their eyes are usually pale in color, but Jeremy is an exception, and that’s his story to tell.” Hunter reverted to her question; avoiding any discussion of a friend he had a hard time explaining. “Fighting at night was all we did. I was a sniper, sometimes I did field work also with Nicholas, since he was our medic; that man has nerves of steel. But that was a post-operative requirement.” One side of his full mouth tilted up in amusement and Destiny watched a dimple settle into the cup of his cheek. “You had to be the best of the best to be there with us. I loved it back then, but I hated it too. Our six man band was a classified group of Black Ops known as Shadow Soldiers. That was something to be proud of- still is. I always tell myself that before I was a businessman, I was a soldier, and I was damn good at my job.”  
Destiny smiled brightly, “You still are, you’ve made a really good name for yourself here.”  
“I inherited the business from Father, but I’ve helped it grow since then, so I guess I am.” Destiny watched his hands as he spoke, gesturing slightly to emphasize his words. His movements were graceful, his words soft but full of emotion. He was proud of the work he did; the evidence was in his voice. “So my original intent for this visit wasn’t to sit down and chit-chat, actually. I was going to stop by your apartment, and pick up some clothes now that you’re awake. I was able to get your glasses from the police office when the detective did a second sweep. Is there anything you need me to get?” He asked.  
“Clothes would be good; I’ll need my soap and shampoo, my phone and purse. Grab a few books for me too.” She rattled off several titles and she was further amazed when Hunter repeated her list verbatim.  
“I’ll take care of it. I should be back sometime around seven or so. That’s when I usually come up here anyway.” Hunter rummaged around through the nightstand by her bed and found a stack of post-it notes and an ink pen. She watched as his elegant fingers scribbled on the pad, he tore off the top sheet and handed it to her. He placed everything back where he’d gotten it from. “This is my cell, call me anytime you want.”  
“Oh, okay.” Destiny stared down at the bright piece of paper and noticed that his handwriting was surprisingly legible. “I can read this!” She exclaimed in amazement, and then chuckled softly. “Most men write like chicken scratch, yours is neat.”  
“It has to be; otherwise I can’t read my own notes.” He laughed, his smile breaking out over his face. He stood up then, and she noticed how tall he was from her vantage point on the bed, but his posture was straight and confident. He wasn’t looming over her or doing anything to intimidate her with his height. “I’m glad you’re doing better.” Hunter clasped her hand then, squeezed gently for a second and released his easy grip. “I’ll be back later with your things.” He waved good-bye and Destiny raised her hand likewise, her skin still tingling from his unexpected touch. She watched him saunter out of the room, secretly admiring the view of his firm backside.  
Come off it, he probably thinks you’re like a little sister. You’re just a bit of responsibility he feels like he has to deal with until you get better. Just watch, he’ll be gone out of your life the second you go back to your apartment.  
She covertly hoped she was wrong. Destiny knew she’d been alone for too long. Hunter’s words hit closer to home than she wanted them to. She sighed and stuck the note by the phone resting on a platform on her bed. With Hunter gone the room felt more empty, like the walls were sucking away the memory of his voice, of his laughter and replacing it with the constant beeping of the heart monitor. There was little in the way of distraction and she realized how much she appreciated the company. It was lonely in here; it was always lonely every time she’d been in a hospital because she had no family, or no friends. Hunter was right; she was all alone. Destiny pulled her blankets higher against the chill that crept into the room, and looked around for the remote for the television.   
Destiny turned the small T.V on, and adjusted the volume, then changed the channel to something she was interested in. She stole a glance at the clock on her bedside table. It was two more hours until lunch, almost nine until Hunter said he would return. She turned her attention back to the television and hoped that the time would pass quickly.


	5. Chapter 5

Destiny walked out the sliding automatic doors of the hospital, feeling relief that the week had passed quickly. Hunter Elliot walked beside her, carrying a black bag filled with her few belongings. The parking lot was filled but beyond it was a stretch of grass that flowed for acres, beyond was a line of trees, the prestigious hospital was surrounded by land, and the only way out was down a one lane road that weaved in and out until you reached the overpass.   
The weather was warm, the breeze cool on her skin, the air smelled fresh, and she could catch the scent of her shampoo every few seconds. “Thank you for taking me home.”  
Hunter smiled briefly, his features warmed as he glanced down at her face. “It’s no problem, but I wasn’t having you walk to your apartment. You’ll be able to make it back for your weekly therapy visits, right?”  
“Yeah, I’ll just have to get directions. I’m not used to being this far away from civilization.”   
“Alright, I was just checking.” Hunter placed his hand on the small of her back and steered her to a sharp looking, sporty silver Lexus LFA. He used his keyless entry to unlock and start the car. He loaded her bag in the trunk and curled into the driver’s seat.   
“Oh, this is nice.” Destiny exclaimed, running her hands along the black leather interior, her eyes soaking in the classic elegant lines of the dash.   
“She’s a sexy thing. Goes from 0 to 60 in 3.6 seconds, and her top speed is 202 mph. I had to put in a purchase application and was put on a three year wait just get her. There are only 500 of these available for worldwide retail.”  
Destiny’s eyes widened in shock as she secured her seatbelt. “Three years? Do I even want to know how much this car costs?”  
After putting his seatbelt on, Hunter put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space. “Probably not,” he said with a rakish grin. He put it into gear and the engine vroomed as he buzzed out towards the main road.  
Destiny’s eyes narrowed at his evasive answer. “Well now I do. Tell me,” she demanded.   
Hunter glanced over to see if she was serious, and her gaze was a swirling tide of blue and green, burning like the sunlight skimming over the ocean. “Not that I’m trying to debase my character, but this is the only flashy thing I own except for my house, so don’t lecture me on starving third world countries I could have saved by donating instead of splurging.”  
“I never said I was going to judge you, I just want to know how much you spent.”  
“You would be surprised, the few people who I’ve told, have threatened to shoot me for all the good I could have done elsewhere.” He raised a black eyebrow in a sardonic expression.   
Destiny laughed, the sound like silver bells, tinkling softly. “Well, I’m not good with a gun, and apparently I have no luck with them either, so I think you’re safe with me.” She skimmed a hand over the stitches on the right side of her head, feeling the soft prickle of hair where her head had been shaved to remove the bullet.  
Hunter took in a deep breath, and maneuvered the sporty car around another curve, letting it out as the road straightened ahead of them. “Three hundred seventy five thousand dollars,” he admitted quickly.   
The silence in the car that followed was almost deafening.  
“You really are rich,” Destiny whispered, suddenly feeling like she shouldn’t be tainting the precious leather seat with her second rate clothes. “I mean, you don’t seem like it at all. I know you own half of New York and probably Manhattan, too, but…I never realized how much money you actually have. You’re like Donald Trump.”  
Hunter threw back his head and laughed. “Comparing me to that pauper is an insult,” he said cockily, his joking grin showing off his even white teeth.   
Destiny smiled back at his easy going attitude, and enjoyed the ride as he handled the car with a grace, and expertise that spoke of many hours behind the wheel.  
“Did you grab my prescription papers before we left?” Destiny inquired.  
“Yes, I did.” Hunter eased the car into a right hand turn as the road they were on suddenly branched into a four lane road. “I’m heading into town to fill your prescription at the pharmacy first, and then I’ll backtrack and take you home.”  
Destiny shook her head in disapproval. “You don’t have to do that, there isn’t any need in having to turn around, just drop me off at my apartment and I can deal with the prescription stuff tomorrow.”  
“Dr. Rosencoff said you need to get your medication as soon as possible. I’m not going against your doctor’s orders just to save your pride. Don’t worry about it.”  
She felt foolish for having to depend on him for something that she could have done herself, but she could tell by the tone in his voice that he wasn’t going to be swayed. She sighed in defeat, “Fine, but this means I owe you.”  
“No, you don’t.”  
“Yes, I— “  
“Destiny don’t argue with me. You don’t owe me anything. I’m doing this as a personal favor, leave it be, and accept the fact that there are people out there who actually might want to help you without reciprocation.”  
Hunter flicked his gaze in her direction and watched as she bit her lower lip.  
“I don’t want your help, Hunter.” She said quietly.  
“Tough shit, you’re getting it.”  
He gave her no room for objection, his refusal to argue over a simple matter warred within her brain. Receiving his help may have been something someone else would have taken without question. But she’d learned several hard lessons in her life at the hands of betrayal, and as a result, found it extremely difficult to rely or trust anyone. She had had to become self-sufficient at an early age and accepting help over a menial task boggled her mind.   
They drove for several miles, winding in and out of trees before they made a left turn and headed into the city limits. Destiny recognized the area immediately and felt a sense of relief. “I remember this place,” she said softly as she gazed out of the window to the shops and stores that lined the right side of the road. “I thought I’d forgotten what it all looked like.”  
Destiny craned her neck as she caught sight of the gym that she had a membership at, but couldn’t recall. The small brick building didn’t strike a hint of awareness within her at all, and the small spark of hope that flared briefly within her seemed to shrink. She was familiar with the city and all of the buildings, the sidewalks, she knew where everything was, but Destiny wanted to be able to remember the small things; like the layout of the gym, or what the owner looked like. She chewed on her bottom lip some more, a habit she found she did when she was frustrated about something.  
Hunter turned into a little pharmacy and told her he would be back. Destiny tried to offer him money to pay for her prescriptions, but Hunter shut the door with a quick shake of his head and another “don’t worry about it.”  
He’d left the car running, with the air conditioner on, and the cold air felt wonderful against the heat of the seats that were still warm. Destiny looked at the center console and figured out how to turn on the radio. She discovered that all the stations he favored were rock ones, which made her smile. That kind of music suited the inner darkness she knew he harbored inside, a darkness she knew few had ever seen. Breaking Benjamin’s new single was playing, and she sang along to the words, having already owned the album.  
In the background she heard a fire truck siren followed by that of an ambulance amongst the roaring of other vehicles as they drove by and she welcomed the noise. The silence of the hospital room she was in had grated on her nerves more than she cared to admit. She liked the familiar sounds of the town she lived in; it helped her feel more at home. Destiny closed her eyes, reclined the seat just a bit and reveled in the feel of the air condition blowing in her hair, the warmth of the leather seat against her shoulders and down the backs of her arms. The quiet hum of the car underneath the music would have put her to sleep soon if Hunter hadn’t opened the drivers’ side door and climbed inside with her.  
“Enjoying my car?” Hunter asked with a glint of amusement sparkling in his black eyes. Destiny blinked up at him, feeling a blush warming her cheeks. She quickly adjusted the seat back to its former position and turned the volume down on the stereo.  
“Sorry,” she apologized, then placed her hands in her lap and stared at the floor for a few seconds. Destiny realized he hadn’t put the car in gear, so she turned her head to look at Hunter and she found him staring at her with an intensity that momentarily left her speechless.  
Hunter’s mouth curved in a smile, that charming dimple in his cheek coming out to play again. “Your eyes are bluer when you’re happy. They darken when you’re thinking about something serious or if you’re embarrassed like you are now.” His teeth flashed briefly as his grin widened. “I was only teasing you. You deserve some comfort after all the stress you’ve been through for the last week.” Hunter put the car in gear, pulled a quick maneuver, zoomed out into traffic, and then at the red light made a right hand turn which put them on the main road where her apartment complex was located.   
They drove for a few minutes down the straight away before Hunter made a left hand turn through three lanes of traffic into the complex. The sirens Destiny had heard earlier were louder here, and she gazed through the window trying to see if the fire truck and ambulance were nearby. Hunter swerved down a lane to his right and went past a sign labeled Section C. The apartment building she lived in had smoke billowing behind it; the fire truck was parked around the back and was spraying water all over the back side of the building.  
“Oh no…” Destiny watched as two paramedics pushed an elderly man in a stretcher into the back of the ambulance. One fire fighter rushed down the flight of stairs with a little girl in his arms, her face was black with soot, and one of her arms was badly burned.  
Hunter parked the car a safe distance away and followed Destiny out of the car as she slowly walked toward the building.  
A police officer who was threading yellow tape around the entrance to the stairs stopped her from going through with a heavy palm to her chest. “Ma’am, you’re not allowed in there. The fire is still going, and we still have men in there. You must let us do our job. Please, step back and join the rest of the tenants.”  
“But that’s my apartment going up in smoke! I have to see if everything is okay.”   
Hunter grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “You can’t go in there Destiny. It’s dangerous. Do what the officer suggested, and I will find out what’s going on, okay?”  
Destiny’s heart climbed up her throat as she walked back to a group of other residents, several of whom were crying. Her landlord stood off to the side, so she stood by him and watched the ambulance, fire fighters and police officers go to work.   
“So you got out of the hospital today huh?”  
“Yeah.” She replied staring at the crowd of familiar faces that surrounded her.  
“What a way to come home,” he murmured. “I’m going to have a hell of a time with the insurance company over this. I hope no one here decides to sue me.”  
“I hope not. Do you know what happened here?”  
“Eh, those guys haven’t said anything to me yet, but one of the tenants on the first floor said she heard a boom, and then fire was everywhere. I don’t know. Just anotha freak accident. These things happen sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Coulda been something electrical, a gas line…who knows?”  
Destiny nodded her head in understanding. Her gaze locked onto Hunter’s figure as he walked toward her after having spoken with one of the officers.  
“They said the propane tank behind your apartment exploded. Caused quite a lot of damage. The whole second story is mostly charred…and there isn’t a whole lot left of the first story. They said it’s possible the whole building could collapse. And you and I are lucky that we arrived when we did. Had I done as you asked you’d be fucking bacon right now.”  
Destiny swallowed the dread that soured her stomach at Hunter’s words. “I know, I was afraid of that. Do you think this was on purpose?”  
Hunter’s lips thinned as he considered telling her the truth. “I’m not sure,” he hedged. While he was speaking with one of the officers he called Detective Marston, who told Hunter that he’d be there at the scene with an arson investigator as soon as possible. “But there is a specialist on his way to look at the damage and make a possible conclusion. I’m not concerned about that as much as where you’re going to be staying now.”  
Destiny realized she hadn’t really thought of that. “I guess I can rent a motel like some of the others will, until I can find another apartment or until this one gets rebuilt.”  
Her landlord gave her a sideways glance “Me getting this building repaired from the ground up is gonna cost me a pretty penny. It all depends on what the insurance company is going to give me, and that amount is probably gonna be based off what that fire expert says.” He shook his head in dismay. “It’ll be a while before anything gets done. You’re better off finding somewhere else to stay.”  
“I agree,” Hunter said. “You’re more than welcome to stay at my house for free, until you get back on your feet,” he offered.  
“Oh, I couldn’t put you out like that.”  
“I have plenty of room, believe me, and my house isn’t that far away from the hospital. You wouldn’t have to worry about taking the bus. I could drive you.”  
Destiny’s eyebrows furrowed as she thought about his suggestion. “I really don’t think I could. I don’t feel comfortable living with you for free. I’ll just stay at a motel.”  
Hunter took in a deep breath as he thought of something else to say to coerce her into staying with him. He didn’t feel comfortable with her being alone in a public place, especially an unsecured one. Hunter placed both hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him so that she faced him squarely. “Look at me,” he demanded in a low voice. Her teal blue eyes jumped up to meet his, full of worry and indecision, touched with a hint of trusting naiveté. “If this incident is an attempt on your life, I don’t want you to be alone. Whoever it is that wants you dead is still out there, and I don’t think you’ll be safe anywhere but with me.” Destiny looked shocked at his blunt words. She didn’t like thinking that someone, anyone would want her dead.   
“I’ll be fine. If anything happens I’ll call the cops and they’ll take care of it.”  
“Fine like you were last time? You just got out of the hospital where you stayed for almost a month. Do you feel like staying in the morgue the next time someone tries to kill you? Stop being immature, and stubborn and just accept my help, okay? My house is wired like the damned Federal Reserve Bank of New York; no one is going to be able to get you there. And my conscience would feel much better if you just stayed with me until the person responsible for all of this is caught.”  
Destiny bit back her temper. “I would appreciate it, if you would quit trying to run my life. I am a grown adult. I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. I don’t care how much money you have, how many guns you own, or how safe your house is. I have been on my own since I was seventeen and I intend to keep it that way.”  
She was warring with herself; she knew. She was also trying to win a losing fight. Having been told what to do her whole life, having her independence cut off was chaffing. She didn’t like it at all and would kick and scream until she either got her way or quit fighting.   
Hunter opened his mouth to object when he heard someone calling his name. His head whipped around, and he watched as Detective Marston jogged over to him. He was a plain clothes detective, dressed in casual khakis, brown boots. A matching brown leather gun holster was at his hip, with a Beretta M9 sidearm sitting inside. His dark blue button down dress shirt wasn’t tucked on one side, and badly in need of an iron.   
Hunter shook Kenneth’s hand once it was offered. “You look like a hot mess, Detective.” Detective Marston chucked, and grinned sheepishly. “That’s me in a nutshell.” Kenneth turned his attention to Destiny, and introduced himself. “I spoke with your doctor this morning before you were released and he told me that you would be up for questioning. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you sometime this evening at your convenience.”  
Destiny glanced into the detective’s bright green eyes, saw the bags underneath, the lines in between his eyebrows, she drew her gaze down his face, seen the laugh lines there at the corners of his mouth. Despite his weary appearance he looked happy enough. “How old are you?” she asked without answering him.  
“Forty- three.”  
“So you’ve been doing this a while?”  
“For about ten years,” he answered casually. Kenneth shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Listen, I know things have been rough all of a sudden, and you’re angry and frustrated. Grilling me isn’t going to get you anywhere, sweetheart. You’re more than welcome to take your pissed off attitude somewhere else. I’ve got to get as much information about what happened to you two weeks ago before your case gets closed on me. I want to find out who almost killed you; I want to find out who is responsible for this mess today and the only way I can do that is if I talk to you. Just come by the station after you’re settled tomorrow. And my best advice is for you to stay with him.” Kenneth nodded in Hunter’s direction. Destiny felt his serious stare bore into her brain, his pale green eyes unblinking as he held her gaze. When she didn’t nod or agree he said “That wasn’t merely a suggestion. You need to stay with Mr. Elliot, not just because I said so, but because it is the smartest thing you can do right now.”  
Getting told what to do sometimes gave Destiny the scratch, but she couldn’t deny either of them the logic of their solution. She hated it, but they were right, and no matter how stubborn she chose to be, deep down she knew that staying alone would still make her a target so long as her killer still lived. And she really didn’t feel like dying any time soon.  
“Fine.” She spat out in a defeated tone, knowing well when she’d lost the fight.  
“Thank you. Hunter—Mr. Elliot, if you would bring her to the city police station early tomorrow morning for questioning. I promise it will be brief. I also have a few of her belongings I took from her apartment; cell phone, purse, stuff like that.”  
Hunter nodded in agreement. “It will be done, and I will call before we leave.”  
“Great. You two have a nice evening. My guys will take care of everything here; I should have something from the Arson Investigator by Thursday. I’ll be sure to let you know what I find when it’s cleared.”  
Destiny started at her apartment, feeling loss that she’d never get to come home again. She watched the smoke billow up into the sky, could see the spray of water as the firefighters still struggled to keep the fire contained. Destiny had been looking forward to sleeping in her own bed finally, to seeing her own things, to discovering if she’d done anything new or added things to her apartment in the last three months that she didn’t remember. She hoped that maybe being around her old life would help her find all the things she’d suddenly forgotten.   
Hunter held her wrist as he tugged gently to break her out of her revere. “Come on, let me take you to my house. It’s still early yet, so I can whip us up something to eat for lunch, maybe you’ll get to meet my younger brother Draven if he’s home, he’s close to your age.” Hunter didn’t add that if Draven so much as made a pass at her he would personally shove Draven’s head so far up his ass he’d be talking out of his armpit.  
They walked back to his car, and Hunter made the twenty minute trip back into Arden. They passed up the hospital which sat on the right now and they drove about eight miles before Hunter turned right down a paved road that made its way through a thicket of trees forever until a huge yard came up over the hill. The road narrowed down into a driveway which circled around to the back of the two storied house.  
Destiny found herself gawking at the wrap around balcony that hugged the second story, the ivory pillars spaced evenly around every window except the curving picture window that centered itself above the double front door. “This is your house?” she asked in awe. She continued to stare as they drove around the house and she realized how long it was. The left side seemed to stretch on forever. Hunter pulled the Lexus into an eight car garage next to the brand new Lamborghini Aventador, which was a burnt orange color, with black wheels. It was all sharp angles and looked like it packed a hefty punch in terms of horsepower. It was probably the sexiest car Destiny had ever laid eyes on, and Hunter’s Lexus was in close competition in that regard. There was a Lamborghini Urus that looked more like an SUV than a sports car, in a matte black with lime green accents. It looked sharp, modern and flashy enough to look right at home with the other expensive vehicles in the garage.  
“This is actually my father’s house,” he began as he put the car in park. “He is retired, and spends most of his days in Vegas gambling away his hard-earned fortune. He has a house there in Nevada, and another one under construction right on the beach in Panama City, Florida. They are all smaller than this one. This beauty is William Elliot’s pride and joy.”   
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her eyes drinking in the vast empty space of the garage. “Is this house just two stories?”  
“No,” Hunter answered as he opened the car door and picked up the black bag he’d sat in there before leaving the hospital. He walked over to Destiny’s side of the car and helped her out. He could tell just by the look on her face that she was due for a nap. “We have a basement so technically it’s three stories. Out back there is an Olympic sized pool, a tennis court, and further towards the woods we have a gun range.”   
“You must have a lot of land.”  
“Father owns about thirty acres total, just for this property. I have no idea how much real estate he has invested in elsewhere.” Hunter paused for a moment, placed his hand at the small of Destiny’s back and guided her to the door at the garage entrance for the house. He opened the door and led her inside a white hallway with four windows on the right side, all curtain less. There was a door at the end of the passage, and Hunter took out his keys and unlocked the door.  
They stepped inside the dining room which opened up to the rest of the first floor. Destiny gazed around at the tall windows across the way in the foyer and living room, to her left was the kitchen done in a dark blue with light hickory cabinets, and an island right in the middle. The dining room table and chairs matched the rest of the kitchen, and was decorated in a dark blue table runner with a small dish of beige and earth-toned stones in the center.   
She followed Hunter through to the foyer and regarded the cathedral ceiling that opened up above her to level out at the second story which was accessible through the set of stairs to her left. Her shoes made soft pit-pat noises on the white and gold marble floor; the small living area was carpeted in thick white strands. It made her feet itch to stand in the middle of the cozy space and dig her toes in deep just to see how plush the carpet was.  
But for now she followed Hunter up the stairs as he led the way to what she assumed was a guest bedroom. “The first door here on the right is my room, you’re more than welcome here anytime, although I rarely spend time here except to sleep. My office is here,” he nodded his dark head to a door that was partially opened. Destiny could make out the sliver of a huge desk stacked with books, some of which were lined in yellow sticky notes. “Your bedroom is right next door.” Hunter opened the door to the right of his office. “I chose this room for you to stay in that way you’re close to me no matter what room you stay in.”  
The guest bedroom was at least a 20x20 room; the entire left wall was lined in three floor-to-ceiling windows all covered in heavy drapes that were cerulean blue, purple and ivory. The rest of the room was outfitted in dark mahogany furniture. The king size bed set across the far wall and had a ton of pillows carefully arranged across the broad surface of the bed. The violet and black duvet was pulled back to reveal creamy sheets and matching pillowcases. To Destiny’s right was a walk in closet that was empty save for a set of sheets, and some towels neatly folded and tucked away on a nearby shelf. She walked further into the room and the next door on her right that she encountered opened up to a huge master bath with beige tiled floors and walls. There was a Jacuzzi/ shower combo that looked big enough for four people, and a deep bowled sink took up the rest of the wall. The commode was in the corner next to the door.  
“This is really nice. Thank you very much.” Destiny turned around and noticed that Hunter was setting her black bag at the foot of the bed. He smiled warmly and then walked to the windows to open the draperies and let the sunlight in.  
“It’s the least I can do. I wasn’t going to leave you in one of the other rooms without proper accommodations. These rooms used to belong to my mother and father, the bedrooms however were adjoined and they shared a bathroom. Once she left with me, father did some remodeling; he also added the library downstairs and a whole other set of guest rooms on the other side of the house on this floor to match these.”   
He motioned her out of the room to show her the rest of the house. “Past my office are a separate rest room and a single guest room, and down the hall there is the other set of rooms like ours. There are six rooms on this floor alone”  
“This house doesn’t look that big from the front to be honest, but the length of the house is astounding. That would explain how your dad managed to cram so many rooms in this space, but he did it without making everything cramped.”  
“Father definitely has a way with space.” Hunter started down the stairs, once he reached the first floor he turned down a hallway behind the stairs to the right where there were other doors that led to other guest bedrooms. “The door on the left here is the bathroom for this floor. Draven’s room is there.” He gestured to a door partially opened at the end of the hallway. “This door,” Hunter cracked open the door and went through, as he walked down the carpeted stairway he talked over his shoulder, “leads to the downstairs. I have a bar down here, big screen T.V …every game console known to man, foose ball and pool tables, darts, air hockey. I guess it’s your typical man cave. We have a workout room here to the left. Laundry room is past the half bath back there behind the stairs.”  
Destiny gazed at all the lit signs of various brands of liquor and beer, baseball and NBA teams. She walked around the bar that was chrome plated and fully stocked. He had German Lagers, Scotch, and more than a dozen brands of Whisky. Brandy snifters were collected on a shelf; cognac was there as well as Rum and Gin. He had mixers, shakers and colored glasses, straws, umbrellas, napkins and tap dispensers as well. “Were you a bartender in another life? I’ve never seen so much alcoholic stuff all in one place without it being a business.”  
Hunter grinned and shrugged, “It’s actually one of Draven’s favorite past times. He can make just about any drink known to man, and even some that aren’t. Stay away from the Malort’s whisky. It tastes like shit. The label even proudly claims its “undrinkable” and if Draven asks you to try a cement mixer, don’t do it. You’ll be throwing up in ten minutes; it’s one of his favorite pranks. His Tidy Bowl is another no-go; then again anything with Blue Curacao is guaranteed to be nasty in my opinion. Actually, just stay away from the bar when he’s anywhere behind it.” He grimaced comically.  
“Alright, I’ll take your advice on that one,” she chuckled, trying to imagine the big shot Hunter becoming a close acquaintance with the toilet bowl, and she found the image amusing to say the least. “So, where is the library?” she asked, then looked sheepishly down at her feet. “Sorry, I’m a book fiend.”   
“Nah, you’re fine. It’s on the main floor. C’mon I’ll show you, and while you browse I can start on lunch. Does BLT’s sound okay?”  
“Sounds great!” Destiny followed him back upstairs and Hunter showed her the door to the library. And she thought the bedrooms were huge. The library had a fireplace along the right wall and there were books everywhere. Leather bound volumes, hardbacks, paperbacks, magazines. Most of the latter were scattered on the floor in front of a table, and there was a man planted down in the middle of the pile thumbing through them before discarding them away.  
“Draven, what are you doing in here?”  
“Looking for something to read.” He mumbled as he picked up a magazine, looked at the cover and tossed it to the side. “Don’t you have any Playboy’s in here?” Draven grumbled. “What the fuck is Forbes? You and Dad actually read this garbage, I swear I need to re-educate you in proper reading material.”  
Hunter snickered at Draven’s antics. “We both know you don’t read Playboy, and my taste in reading material is fine, I’d rather not have it corrupted by your likes, thank you though.”  
“Yeah, I don’t read Playboy for the articles. I just rip out all the pages and spread them out all over my bed, get naked and roll on them like a dog for a good hour.” He chucked another magazine across the way. Draven’s mischievous grin fell off his face as he grabbed for yet another monthly issue of popular drivel , and caught sight of the girl who was half hiding behind Hunter, and staring at him like she couldn’t believe what she just heard. “So this is the one you’ve been spending your nights with eh? Thanks for informing me we had company before I overshared about my self-indulgent reading habits.”   
“We both know you knew she was here long before you opened your piehole and went on your get-naked-and-roll tangent. Smartass. This is Destiny Merrick, our guest until she gets back on her feet. This is my younger brother Draven Elliot, evil bartender and asshole extraordinaire.”  
Draven got to his feet, stepped over the mess he’d made and introduced himself by holding out his hand. “That first statement about me being an evil bartender is just him being jealous because he couldn’t hold down the milk and coke I made him drink on a bet two years ago.”  
“I don’t think anyone could hold that down. It sounds disgusting.”  
“Disgusting doesn’t even touch it,” Hunter threw in, “It tasted worse than a Gorilla Fart.”  
“Tasted like ass, didn’t it?” Draven grinned.  
“Yeah, thanks for that by the way. I couldn’t get the taste out of my mouth for weeks.”  
Draven guffawed, slapping his hands on his thighs. “Payback brother. That’s all I’m saying.”  
“I’m getting nauseous just thinking about it. I’m making lunch. So you two hang out, and I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”  
Hunter walked out of the library and into the kitchen, he started rummaging through the refrigerator and cabinets, getting out the cutting board and tomatoes and iceberg lettuce. Destiny looked back at the mess Draven had left on the floor. She shot him a glance “Were you really looking for a dirty magazine?”  
“No, I do this all the time. I’m not a book person. I have a subscription to Draft and Game Informer that were supposed to come in this month. Usually Hunter just sets them on the table for me but he’s been gone so much the last few weeks I haven’t had a chance to find out where he’s put them, so I started searching on my own.” Draven scrubbed his chin with the heel of his hand, mentally reminding himself – again – that he needed to shave. The stubble that started growing across his cheeks had enhanced his rugged facial structure, taking away some of the pretty boy, but Draven didn’t like looking like a haggard bum all at the same time either.  
Destiny took a good look at Hunter’s younger brother, trying to see the similarities in their features. He was shorter but broader in his shoulders; his arms were thicker, suggesting he spent a lot of time in the weight room downstairs. His jaw was cut sharply, covered with stubble of jet black hair that matched the finger combed mess on his head. His lips were full, and shaped the same as his older brother’s. His nose was also strong and straight, eyebrows dark, one of which was pierced, over a startling set of forest green eyes that were lighter towards the middle.   
His clothes were of the comfy variety, loose sweat pants that were tied in the front, bare feet and a well-fitting plain grey shirt. His nonchalant, impish attitude seemed so in contrast to his face, which was honed in seriousness. There was lightness in his expression, an ease in his gaze though that suggested he had a better outlook on life than Hunter did. It also made Destiny very aware of the roles they each played. Hunter was a grown man who ran a multimillion dollar business. Draven was a humorous bartender/gamer/ average 24 year old with no real responsibilities.   
What was this, The Dating Game?   
Frustrated with her inner nitpicker, Destiny started picking up the issues that were scattered across the floor. “So what do you do for a living? Do you work with Hunter any?”  
Draven shook his head and started helping with the mess. “No, I don’t have the patience for holding meetings, crunching numbers and making phone calls and pie charts every day. I’m not that organized, really. I bartend mostly. I was in the military; I joined when I turned eighteen just like Hunter. I wanted to do something more with my life, and I had seen and heard about the success he was getting so, I figured I’d be more like big brother and hop on board. Two years ago, I dropped out, went to school for bartending. I do some security jobs as well when needed. I don’t have to work, but I get too bored if I don’t do anything. Hunter doesn’t have to work either, he has enough advisors and attorneys and other people behind-the-scenes to do all the work for him. He is anal like that though; he always has to know what’s going on. Dad was like that too, still is. I talked to him this morning. Hopefully you’ll get to see him before you leave. He said he was going to stop by sometime at the end of the week. He’s a character.” He stacked up the issues on the table in neat columns of twelve, watched Destiny’s graceful hands arrange her pile in order. “What about you?”  
“Oh, me? Right now, nothing.” Her lips thinned and her eyebrows rose in an “oh-well” expression. “Before my accident,” she paused, putting air quotations around the work accident “I worked at a call center in Harrington. Before that, I worked at one of the department stores at the mall there. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get my job back or not since I’ve been out for three weeks. Maybe I should try getting a new one or something.”  
“So you grew up here in New York?”  
“Yeah, I was an orphan so I grew up all over the place, mostly in upstate though. I’ve been in orphanages, foster care…I was adopted once when I was six. That turned out badly though and I was returned to the state when I was ten. I was put back in foster care when I was twelve.” She sighed. “I really don’t like talking about that time in my life; can we talk about something else?”  
“Sure, sure…sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject. Do you have any hobbies?” Draven walked over to the fireplace and sat down in one of the chairs, Destiny sat down in the one on the other side. She watched as Draven clicked on the gas fireplace with a remote.   
“I read, I watch T.V…I work. Worked,” she corrected. “Really don’t do much, I don’t have any friends, most people my age are married, or dating and I just don’t have any interest in all of that.”   
Draven nodded in understanding and continued the conversation, listing his favorite things to do from watching talk shows, martial arts, archery, and online video gaming. “I also have a knack for interior decorating but that makes me look queer, and I’m not, so I don’t do much with that.” Draven chuckled. “Hunter thinks it’s awful that I watch Ellen but I do it to mostly just to make him wonder. I like watching him squirm.”  
There was a polite knock on the door and Hunter poked his head in. “Lunch is ready guys.”  
A deep inhale on Draven’s part had his saliva glands overflowing. “Ahh, bacon. I love you man. You need your own cooking show.” Draven walked to the door and patted his big brother on his shoulder with approval. “She’s cool by the way. You can keep her.”   
Hunter watched Destiny follow his brother out of the library, blatantly stared at her ass as he watched the gentle sway of her hips. A part of him wanted to keep her alright, how long she was willing to stay was the kicker.


	6. Chapter 6

Destiny awoke the following morning feeling refreshed. She never had the luxury before of sleeping in such a soft bed as her own had been cheap and far from comfortable. Her income hadn’t allowed for extra spending, especially on something as extravagant as a new mattress when the one she had served its purpose. She hadn’t ever come to terms with the rationality of spending hundreds of dollars for a more comfortable bed to gain a more restful sleep. She thought with a grin that whenever she was able to save up the money for her own place that the first thing she was doing was going mattress shopping, a girl could get used to waking up feeling this amazing.  
She showered quickly, brushed her teeth and attended to her toilette before getting dressed in jeans and a simple shirt. She could hear Hunter’s voice in the room next to hers and realized he was in his office managing his businesses from home. A quick glance at the bedside table showed her that the time was somewhere after seven in the morning. She was usually an early riser anyway but she hadn’t thought that Hunter would keep to such an early schedule since most business hours didn’t start for another hour or more.  
As Destiny made her way downstairs, she could smell breakfast wafting from the kitchen and at the turn of the stairs she found Draven sitting at the island stirring a cup of coffee while absentmindedly staring out the window. She politely cleared her throat to announce her presence since she didn’t want to startle him from his thoughts.  
Draven flicked his sharp green gaze to her approaching figure. “Oh, hey, I didn’t think you’d be up this early. I made breakfast if you want any. Coffee?” He gestured to his cup and started to rise from his seat.  
“Coffee sounds great, and I don’t sleep in much. I’m usually up with the sun if not earlier most mornings. Perks of working first shift, I think.” She grinned sheepishly and followed him to the French press. “I’ve never seen one of these before. I’m an instant coffee kind of girl, this looks too rich for me.”  
Draven shook his head and replied, “You can blame Hunter for the kitchen appliances, I didn’t pick anything out when they updated the house. I just work here. He said he’d never go back to pre-ground coffee when he could do it himself. He also has an espresso machine, and there’s a blender somewhere in here for cappuccinos, frappes, lattes; he pretty much has his own Starbucks right in the kitchen.”  
Destiny watched as Draven took out a bag of dark coffee beans and loaded them into the press to be ground and within a few minutes she held a steaming cup of fresh coffee in her hands that smelled like heaven. She took a tentative sip and her taste buds woke up to a broader flavor in the coffee that she’d never tasted before. “This is fantastic. I thought all coffee tasted the same, but this really isn’t even bitter.”  
“It’s all in the beans.”  
Destiny chuckled, “Does Hunter buy magic coffee beans, too?”  
“I think so.” Draven refilled his cup and grabbed a croissant from the stove. He spread strawberry currant over the top from a nearby jar. Destiny helped herself to a plate of poached eggs and toast, selected a banana from the bowl of fruit on the counter and began to eat.  
“So when will Hunter be down? Has he had breakfast this morning?” She sat down at the island across from Draven. She wasn’t feeling awkward about sharing her morning meal with his brother but had thought he’d be present when she woke up. Of course, she was beginning to realize that there was so much more to running an enterprise that carving out your own time was a very difficult thing to do. She wondered how much time he’d sacrificed to spend time with her in the hospital while he should have been home or at work managing his affairs.  
“I suppose he’ll be on the phone off and on for another hour and he usually heads into the city before ten, sometimes earlier depending on his schedule and meetings. Once he finished with his round of phone calls he will come down for coffee, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on him eating with us any time soon.”  
Destiny swallowed a bite of fruit and took another sip of her coffee. “If it’s not an inconvenience, I can bring him breakfast, so he isn’t obligated to come down here to eat and be social. I’m sure he’s very busy.”  
“He is, and I’m sure he would appreciate it. I’ll go ahead and make him a plate while you finish your food.”  
A few minutes later Destiny was carrying a caramel macchiato double espresso and a plate heaped with hash browns, a rasher of bacon, a buttered croissant and fresh scrambled eggs. She knocked on his office door and turned the knob and let herself in.  
“ – already raised the required amount of capital for the expansion, but I think I have a right to know who is buying my shares. Those are my public shares on the stock exchange, I want to know where my money is going.” Hunter turned and motioned her in and gestured to an empty corner on his cluttered desk for her to place his breakfast. He took the coffee from her hands and took a sip. He mouthed the words ‘Thank you’. “Yes, I know that. It was a pre-arranged business deal, they signed the contract for that two months ago but it won’t go into effect until I get the groundwork started for sales. I’m only sharing four percent, but I’m looking at the stocks right now and I don’t want them pulling out beforehand and profiting the money I’m investing.”  
Destiny looked at the wall and was shocked to see four big screen TVs all showing the latest news and one was turned to CNN where she watched numbers scroll across the bottom. His desk was covered in newspapers, the Wall Street Journal and New York Times unfolded and taking up majority of the space. His black laptop was open and on a webpage she couldn’t read from where she was standing. Hunter sat down in his chair and held up a finger for her to wait when she would have turned and left him to his work. He moved aside an advertising budget proposal he’d been reviewing and flipped open a calendar that was covered in colorful ink with dates and names and times. “Alright, I have an opening tomorrow at eleven. I’ll be covering the sales meeting at twelve with all the merchandise managers. I’ll have all the paperwork ready for you then and we can discuss the next steps we need to take.” He paused for a second while he made a notation on his calendar. “That sounds great, thanks Scott.”  
Hunter turned to her with a warm smile, “Good morning, how’d you sleep?” He hung up the phone and she noticed he had six telephones in the far-left corner of his desk.  
“I slept great, thanks for asking.”  
“Sorry about that, I was speaking with my financial advisor and stockbroker. I’m working on opening a new building and I have to get the financial groundwork laid out before I can start with the more important tasks of business management.”  
“Oh, you’re fine. Draven said you hadn’t had breakfast and that it might be awhile before you were able to come downstairs to eat, so I thought I’d bring the food to you.”  
“I’m usually at work this time of morning but I thought I’d stay home until my first meeting so I could see how you are. You took your medicine this morning, correct?” Hunter took another sip of his espresso and pulled the plate of food in front of him, unfolded his napkin and began neatly cutting into his eggs.  
Destiny nodded her answer while she watched him eat with quick efficiency. See? He stayed to check on you. He only thinks you’re sister material, quit staring at his mouth, you ninny.  
Hunter’s phone rang and he answered quickly. “Richard, this is unlike you to be calling this early in the morning. What’s going on?” And like that Hunter made the switch to business mode, his brows drawing down in concentration as he listened to the other side of the conversation. “Okay, talk to Tina and tell her I said I want that sales clerk fired. Have you already called the police?” There was a brief pause, and another phone line started ringing. Hunter punched the HOLD button with his finger. “Yes, I’m pressing charges, matter of fact I’ll contact our corporate attorney and get that started. I’ll address this in our security meeting first thing. Thanks for taking care of this and letting me know.” He pressed the receiver down and transferred the other call. “Hunter Elliot…Hello Father.” He said the word ‘Father’ like it was a title instead of a person he was talking to. Destiny noticed that Draven referred to the infamous millionaire as Dad, and Hunter called him Father. There must have been drastic differences in their relationships, but she reasoned that he spent majority of his years growing up with his mother in a different country and that was as much of a likelier cause as relationship issues.  
“Yes, I just got the call from Richard Chutney who is the Director of Security and Loss Prevention, I’m aware of the issue and it’s being taken care of.” Hunter scooped a fork full of hash browns and chewed carefully as he listened to his father on the other line. “I have a meeting arranged for that this morning, and another one following concerning our financial division. I’m supposed to meet with the Realtor Agent at one thirty to look at prospective available property.” His dark eyes scanned the list of meetings and going to’s that coordinated his day. “I’m booked until 6 o’clock at the latest and the next week looks just about the same.”  
He finished his conversation with his father while he ate and grabbed a post-it note and jotted something down and then stuck it next to his phone. Destiny stared at her fingers and waited a few moments before commenting. “You’re very busy this morning.”  
Hunter smiled and glanced in her direction, his cool gaze resting on her face. “I’m just getting started, believe me. Most of my days are like this though so I’m used to it.”  
“I don’t know how you juggle all of this. I’ve been in here for less than ten minutes and you’ve already dealt with enough to make me want to pull my hair out.”  
“Some days it can be stressful for sure, but every day is different and I rarely deal with the same issue twice so I like the diversity. I went through business school while I was in the army; it was something father wanted me to do so I could fill his shoes once he retired. He still has his fingers in just about everything concerning the main branch in NYC, but I learned about this business at his feet from an early age. I’ve been pedigreed for Vice Presidency and Co-Owner so I was prepared for all of this from the get go.”  
“You deal with more than just the department store and all the other things you own in Manhattan, it sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”  
Hunter nodded his agreement, “True, and that’s why I have a board of trustees and advisors and a whole committee dedicated to dealing with everything I cannot see to personally. There just aren’t enough hours in the day and I am only one person. I’ve expanded Elliot Empires to nearly triple what it started out as just within the last five years. Once I get a broad enough expansion going on I will probably take a break and let everything be as it is.” Hunter sighed, “But until then I have to work my ass off.”  
Destiny watched Hunter sit back in his chair and roll up the sleeves of his button down shirt. The light purple shirt would have looked feminine on anyone else but it only enhanced the dark hair that sprinkled his forearms. He had a black heavy watch on his right wrist that looked expensive, and upon further inspection noticed it was one of those watches that had the face removed so you could see the gears behind the arms, his movements keeping the watch powered.  
“Was there anything you needed me to do here while you’re gone, or am I free to do as I please?”  
“You make it sound like you’re being kept prisoner here. Of course you can do as you wish but this is your second day out of the hospital, there shouldn’t be anything that needs seeing to. I haven’t heard anything from your landlord and Draven will swing you by to see the detective later today. The only thing I have insisted on is for Draven to be your personal chauffeur for the day and to see to it that you are properly attired. There isn’t much in the bag you brought here with you, and I’m sure you’d like more things to wear than the few outfits you own.”  
“So you want me to go on a shopping spree, and blow all the millions you’ve earned this year?”  
Hunter laughed at the sardonic tone in her voice. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who would own a closet full of Jimmy Choos shoes even if you had the money. Just buy what you need, whatever you like; I’m not concerned about cost. The only thing I ask is that when you go dress shopping to do so at Elliot’s. I’ll be there of course with work, but I have my own line of credit and we have a much better selection of women’s apparel than Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s.”  
Destiny gave him a deadpan stare. “I shop at thrift stores, and you’re throwing out designer store names like you’re talking about Wal-Mart. I don’t wear dresses anyway.”  
Hunter cleared his throat, “I had hoped to run this by you at a more opportune moment and I understand it is last minute for you, but I hoped you would oblige me in this. I have a dinner / charity gala I will be attending Saturday evening and I have no one to take. I had originally planned on going this alone, but I would really like to have you there at my side. You’ll need a dress for that.”  
Butterflies started dancing in her stomach. She met his questioning stare and her mouth went dry at the thought of being in such a public place with him. Then she thought of the crowd of people, probably very upper crust who would be there. She didn’t do large groups of people, and briefly fought against the panic. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been to anything that formal before. I’m sure you could find someone more cultured to go with you, a girlfriend maybe? It’s really not necessary that I go with you.”  
Hunter’s eyebrow shot up at the implication that she wasn’t good enough to be seen in public with him, and also at the idea that he would pick her over a girlfriend he didn’t have. It was vaguely insulting and he realized quickly that she was trying to wheedle her way out of going.  
He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on the heavy desk and clasped his hands together to keep from taking hers. He missed being able to hold her hand and had made no untoward attempt to touch her once she had awakened from her coma. He had been polite, brotherly almost in his attitude toward her. He didn’t want to overwhelm her but he couldn’t keep hiding his attraction to her or his desire for her company. Had she been anyone else he would have sent her off the moment she came into his office regardless of what she was carrying in.  
“I don’t have a girlfriend. There is no one else I could bring, as I have no female acquaintances outside of work that I know well enough to bring with me. I trust you not to embarrass me, and it would be my pleasure to have you with me. I think it would be a welcome break for the both of us and give us some time alone.”  
“Alone.” She answered stupidly. Her brain was warring with her, telling her that it was not a good idea to be alone with him.  
“In public, of course, but it would give us an opportunity to spend some time with each other.”  
Her heart leapt at the earnestness she saw in his face. The look in his eyes was almost unreadable though, like he was guarding himself, afraid of revealing too much. She watched as he blinked and she saw a brief hunger flit through the black of his eyes as his gaze dropped down to her throat, down to her collarbone hidden beneath her shirt, and then back up to her face so slowly. “Please?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if the request would scare her if he spoke too loudly.  
That brief heated look nearly undone her, the room was suddenly too warm, and she felt a slight flush creeping into her face. “I…”  
The phone rang, the harsh noise breaking the spell his eyes and voice had woven around them. Hunter bit his lip in frustration and reached for the phone, glancing at the caller ID. “I have to take this. The event isn’t until Saturday, so you have three days to think about your answer. I will be leaving soon for my meetings and won’t be back until eight o’clock at the latest.”  
“Alright, I’ll think about it. Have a good day.” The phone rang again, and she grabbed his dishes and quickly left the room as he answered the phone.

Later that afternoon she and Draven were driving into NYC after she had finished her errands in Arden. They’d swung by the police station where Destiny sat through a forty-minute interview with a female officer, as Detective Marston was out on another case. She’d signed out her belongings from the evidence department, swung by the bank to get her latest balance and then visited her cellphone carrier to get her phone turned back on. In the three weeks she’d been in the hospital she’d had 6 missed calls and about half as many unread text messages. She listened to the messages, two being from her department manager the day after the shooting questioning her unreported absence, the remainder being from her friend Vickie whom Destiny worked with. The three text messages were from various co-workers none of whom she was close with.  
Destiny made a quick phone call to Vickie and left a message on her friend’s voicemail. “Hey Vickie, it’s me, Destiny. I've been out of the hospital for the last two days. Sorry I kind of fell of the planet; the police had my phone. It’s working now though, so call me when you get the chance, I’d love to catch up! Bye.”  
She pushed the end button on her phone and watched Draven bring his sporty car to a stop light at a very busy intersection. He glanced over at her and lifted a questioning eyebrow.  
“What?” he asked.  
“I don’t know how you drive in this city. I’d have run over twenty people by now. So where are we going?”  
Draven tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, his gaze on the traffic light. “I've been driving in this city for so long, I know it like the back of my hand. It’s easy to get lost in it though, especially for someone who doesn’t live here. I figured we’d stop by whatever store you wanted to shop in. Saks is two blocks away; we can start there and just walk our way to Elliot’s if that’s fine with you?”  
“They don’t have k-marts here or even a Roses, do they?”  
“ No. There will be no cheap clothing for you!” Draven smiled flashing even, white teeth, “Hunter’s orders.”  
“He told me I could buy whatever I wanted.”  
Draven shifted the car into first gear and took off when the light turned green. “Once we get into Harrington again I’ll drop you off at the outlet mall there and let you thrift shop till you drop.”  
“Deal.” Destiny agreed with a nod of her head.  
“But first, lunch. Any restaurants you want to go to first?”  
Destiny stared out the window at the buildings that loomed dozens of stories high, amazed at the thought that she would ever be shopping in the Big Apple. “Can we go to Times’ Square?”  
Draven laughed and told her she sounded like a tourist but assured her that if they had time, he would drive through it all and she could take pictures and gawk with her head out of the sunroof.  
At Destiny’s persuasion they ended up parking behind Saks and grabbing hot dogs from one of the vendor grills.  
“I have never had one of these in all my life!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands as she watched the man shovel spicy meat sauce, and onion onto her dog, he drizzled mustard and then added sharp shredded cheddar cheese on her two Coney dogs. A scoop of curly veggie fries and a Dr. Pepper completed her meal.  
“You've lived in New York your whole life and have never gotten a dog off the street?”  
“No,” she answered and took a bite of her dog, then wiped mustard from the corner of her mouth. “I went on a field trip once here, but I didn’t have any money to buy any souvenirs, or lunch for that matter. I think I ended up sharing a bologna sandwich with my teacher. That was one of the benefits of living in an orphanage. I never had extra money for stuff like that.” She slurped her soda through the straw noisily and was all but dancing in her seat as she munched happily on her fries.  
After they finished their lunch Draven and Destiny went shopping through a myriad of high-priced stores. Destiny had never seen so many clothes, she carefully picked her blouses, pants and shoes; noting most of the stores didn’t sell t-shirts and jeans. Some stores had clearance racks and she tried to buy from those as opposed to paying two hundred dollars on a dressy top she probably wasn’t going to wear. Just before they’d went into Elliot’s department store, they dropped all of her shopping bags in the trunk of Draven’s Lamborghini, and parked in a designated parking spot reserved specifically for the Elliot family.  
Destiny took a deep breath as Draven opened the doors to the seven storied building, done in grey and white, with a large chrome ELLIOT’S sitting welcoming over the entrance. The cool air conditioning felt wonderful, and she noticed that the grey and white theme continued into the store, the walls done in various shades of charcoal grey, expensive white tiled floors shot through with grey and chandeliers everywhere. A woman with short expertly dyed blonde hair, wearing a light silver button down blouse and a black skirt came forward.  
“Hello, I’m Charlotte. I’ll be your personal attendant today, to help you while you shop.” She held out a manicured hand to Destiny, who shook her hand and looked helpfully to Draven.  
“She’s all yours. I’ll head upstairs and bug my brother for a while.”  
“Thank you, Mr. Elliot,” Charlotte replied curtly.  
Destiny watched as he moved through shelves of clothes to the escalator that lead up to the next level. “Alright, is it okay if I call you Destiny, or would you prefer Miss Merrick?”  
“Destiny is fine.”  
“Come with me into the back and we’ll get you measured.”  
“I don’t need to be measured. I wear a small in tops and a size 8 in jeans, and an 8.5 in women’s shoes.”  
Charlotte grinned at Destiny, turned and then spoke as Destiny followed.  
“Hunter said you’d be stubborn. We don’t sell sizes here. We sell measurements so that every piece of clothing is perfectly tailored to your specific dimensions. Also, don’t bother looking for price tags here, Mr. Elliot Sr. considered flaunting your sales prices to be gauche, and gave nosy competitors nothing to work with. You have an open line of credit here, in your name. After we take down your measurements, we will go back to customer service for your signature on said credit.”  
Destiny was taking it all in, but everything was paved so smoothly for her that she was floored.  
Charlotte was quick with the measuring tape, her brown eyes not judging, and her attitude was very professional. As she led Destiny into the ladies’ section Destiny noticed that Charlotte was wearing a clear earpiece with a wire curling behind her neck, a discreet microphone bubbled out just under her ear. None of the other stores she’d been in had been so proficient in security. Destiny noticed small silver globes dotting the ceiling in evenly spaced intervals and knew that Hunter could see her and wondered if he was watching.  
After over forty minutes of shopping and talking, Charlotte wheeled in a mesh cart and placed all of her customer’s clothes inside. “Okay,” she exclaimed brightly as she held up a day dress with a white and coral print that she had selected from one of the tables. “This will hit you right at the knee; do you have shoes for these?”  
“Yes, I believe so.” Destiny answered.  
“Good and I know just the thing to go with this during the evenings if the weather cools.” Destiny followed Charlotte to a rack of scarves and shawls. Charlotte’s quick fingers plucked a hanger and she checked the shoulder seam length of the item. “Perfect. This is hand stitched vintage lace from one of our designers in Italy, it’s a one of a kind article, and according to our inventory…” She plucked out a handheld PDA from the cart, entered a series of numbers, and replied “I only have three of these ordered, none of which are in your size. I think it would look great with that dress, and several other tops you've bought today.”  
It was a little white lace bolero jacket with minute mother of pearl buttons, but the design kept it from looking matronly. Destiny agreed and nodded at Charlotte’s perceptive tastes.  
“One last piece and then I think we will be done for the evening, yes? Hunter mentioned you’d be buying a formal dress.”  
Destiny blushed and stared at her sneakers. “I haven't made up my mind about that yet.”  
“Well, let’s have a look anyway. If you find something you like, I can put in a reserve for it and hold it while you make a decision.” Charlotte led the way through an open doorway where all the ladies’ formal wear was held. There were racks of dresses in every imaginable style and color, sequined and plain, jeweled or leathered. “I’m going to grab us some refreshment while you browse. Would you prefer green tea or water?”  
“I’ll have water, please, and thank you.” Destiny fingered through the dresses, absentmindedly thinking about what would look best. She found a few that she liked and made sure to check the measurements and then hung them on the cart. Charlotte returned a few minutes later with two lid covered glasses of water.  
“Evian,” Charlotte held out Destiny’s glass, noting the dresses added to the cart and watched coolly as she removed the lid and took a sip. “I was going to ask without being rude about what you were planning to do with your hair and makeup for that event? We have a floor dedicated to jewelry and cosmetics with specialists from Sephora, and a hair stylist from John Freda.”  
“I wasn’t sure actually. I thought I’d wear it parted to the side like this to cover the stitches from my surgery.”  
“Would you consider temporary extensions?”  
“I might,” Destiny reluctantly conceded.  
Charlotte offered her a card with Elliot’s business logo etched in silver across the top. “This is my card. My number is here in the store, I will receive any call through my headset.” She pointed to the other numbers listed with a carefully painted fingernail, “here is our leading cosmetologist; Sarah is such a wonderful person I recommend her all the time, and you can call this line to set up an appointment with Mitchell at our salon.”  
“Wow, you really have the works here, don’t you?” Destiny placed the card in her front pocket.  
Charlotte laughed, a smile lighting her face. “Yes we do, Elliot’s is unlike any other department store I’ve ever worked in. They really pay attention to their clientele.” She walked to the cart and eyed the dresses Destiny had chosen, then holding each dress under Destiny’s chin, she made approving or disapproving noises with associated comments on why the garment would or wouldn’t work.  
Destiny spent the next ten minutes browsing some more until she found the dress. THE dress. It was a single, strapless column made of dark sapphire blue silk and chiffon, floor length with a matching blue lace overlay on the bodice, modestly decorated with what she assumed were crystals.  
“This is beautiful,” Destiny murmured as the held the dress up for further inspection.  
“Those diamonds make such a tasteful statement. The color would look great on you.” Charlotte never mentioned price, but the Carolina Herrera gown was worth over four thousand seven hundred dollars, the Giuseppe Sanotti shoes she knew would pair perfectly, would cost more than her weekly paycheck. “You have to buy this.”  
“I think I will,” she said after some careful consideration. “ Hunter doesn’t expect me to go, let alone in something this nice. Besides, when I saw this, I knew this was what I was wearing.”  
Charlotte held up a dress bag, slid it over the gown and made a quick notation on the tag. “We will hold this for you until Saturday after you’ve made your purchases. I know just the shoes that will go with this. Follow me and we will take you to the dressing room just to make sure it fits correctly, which it should. If it needs to be tailored in any way this will ensure we have plenty of time to make this gown fit like a dream.”  
Destiny grabbed her water from the cart where she’d placed it alongside Charlotte’s and took a refreshing drink. She could feel a headache coming on at the thought of all the money she didn’t know she was spending, she slipped a pain pill she’d been thoughtful enough to remember to take with her, and swallowed it down while hoping to get ahead of the pain before it became excruciating.  
Charlotte handled the remainder of the affairs and final transaction with subtlety, and watched Destiny and Draven walk out Elliot’s doors with a pleasant smile.  
Evening was coming on quickly, the air taking a cool chill that raced goose bumps along Destiny’s arms. They chatted companionably as they walked to Draven’s car, discussing her shopping spree, and him sitting in on one of Hunter’s executive meetings. She was transferring one shopping bag to her left arm as Draven opened the trunk, when her world when white. She was there one second then the next she was engulfed in a shimmery weightless blank space.

The Prophet, the Slayer, Empath and Scholar will be the first bonded four. There will be two rings in Shadows of eight.  
“Destiny!” Someone shouted a name and the words she was hearing starting spinning away. She needed to hear them though. Needed to say them. Time here was so slow, they must be warned before it was too late.  
There will be two rings in Shadows of eight. United for a war—  
Rough hands shook her shoulders, “Destiny wake up, what’s wrong?!”  
He was Draven. He was important.  
You will find a mirror and will seek out—  
She felt a sharp sting against her cheek, “Destiny, snap out of it, wake up!”  
The world returned on a whoosh of air, but she surfaced never having closed her eyes. She was lying on the parking lot, Draven was above her, his green eyes wide with panic, his hand cold on her face where he’d slapped her to try and bring her to awareness.  
She felt nauseous and a sudden dry heave had her turning over. It was like she was experiencing severe vertigo.  
Destiny heard footfalls getting closer.  
“Hunter!” Draven sounded relieved, “I don’t know what happened, I opened my trunk to put in her bags and then the next thing I knew she went down. Her eyes went white like she had cataracts and she started babbling something about a shadow of eight and finding a mirror… I don’t know, nothing she said made any sense.”  
Hunter squatted down beside his brother, quickly assessing the situation. “She needs medical attention. It will take forever for an ambulance to get here.” He glanced at the watch at his wrist. “Let me make a phone call, I’ll have the helicopter here in less than five.”  
Hunter pulled out his cell, punched his screen with a quick index finger, spoke a few quick words, closed the call and then made another for the hospital and dispatch. After tucking his phone in his back pocket, he knelt beside Destiny holding her hair from her face as she wretched. “Have you eaten anything?”  
“Not since lunch.” She swallowed, feeling comforted at how his hands felt in her hair. She took a few slow, shallow breaths, willing her nerves and stomach to settle. She really didn’t feel like vomiting all over Hunter’s thousand-dollar shoes. She sat up and leaned against the side of the door of the car, feeling the cool breeze blowing, chilling the clammy sweat on her neck.  
“My private helicopter will take you to Charity Lakes. I’ve already made the necessary arrangements. Draven,” he glanced at his younger brother “Take the car and meet me there. As soon as they get her settled in the E.R I’ll text you her room number.”  
Draven nodded his head, obeying Hunter’s orders without question. A pensive look crossed his face watching Hunter with her. What did those words mean, that she said in her delirium? What did they mean?


End file.
